


Long Road to Redemption

by hopeyoustay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aka a Ghost, Canonical Child Abuse, Dark Magic, F/F, Ghosts, Good Slytherins, Harry Potter was Adopted by Other(s), Horcrux Creation, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Racism, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black Feels, Regulus Black-centric, Sad Sirius Black, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Sirius Black Lives, Sirius Black-centric, Suicidal Thoughts, medium Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27260176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeyoustay/pseuds/hopeyoustay
Summary: Harry Potter had been able to see people others couldn't since he could remember; he didn't know it was something bad until he could speak and Aunt Petunia would hit him with the spatula for his freakishness. Still, they made good company occasionally, at least the ones who weren't yelling all the time. Regulus, in particular, was a constant guardian; he taught him, was never unkind, and even protected him when his incorporeality allowed.(Or the one when being touched by death left a lasting impression on one Harry James Potter, leaving one Regulus Arcturus Black to raise his brother's godson. As a ghost. Who knew the afterlife would be so interesting?)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Regulus Black & Harry Potter, Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Regulus Black & Sirius Black & Harry Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 121
Kudos: 878





	1. The Boy and the Ghost

Chapter One: The Boy and the Ghost

* * *

_What would it feel like_   
_To put this baggage down?_   
_If I'm being honest_   
_I'm not sure I'd know how_

* * *

Regulus was floating in the in-between when he felt the tug on his very core of being. One minute he was laying in the vast expanse of limbo, darkness surrounding him every which way he looked, silencing and suffocating despite the fact that he had no need for breath. He couldn't move on yet; he didn't know if he'd ever be able to. He had no idea how much time had passed since his death, there was no way of counting the days here let alone the years. His soul was still tied to the mortal realm, refusing to let go, tethered in some horrifying way that meant he would never find an escape.

He blinked.

He was in a suffocating space, still, but it was no longer quiet and no longer dark. The tiny room was illuminated by one desk lamp shoved in the corner of the space, making a small child laying on a ragged blanket easily visible. The change was jarring, to say the least; he felt like he was floating, and looking down he realized that was partially true. He didn't really touch the ground; the tips of his feet and fingers seemed to fade and flicker in and out of existence. The clanging of pots and pans outside rang clear, and there was muffled talking and crying beyond that. The boy trapped in here with him was, strangely enough, completely silent for one so young.

He shuffled his feet.

Eyes cracked open across from him, a startling green.

"Are you going to start screaming?" The boy muttered mulishly, face still hidden half in his crossed arms.

"Why would I do that?" Regulus blinked in wonder at the sound of his voice. He'd been mute for so long, it was like the sound of returning home, returning to himself.

"Most of you do." The boy said quite flippantly as if he communed with the dead on a regular basis, "Bloody annoying, that."

"You know a lot about ghosts then, huh?" Regulus raised a single brow.

"Seeing as I've been talking to them since I _could_ talk, yes." The kid snarked back, "Most of them aren't very nice. They scream a lot and ask me to help them get revenge, or say goodbye, and I can't help any of them. They're just very loud and persistent even when I tell them I can't do anything. It's rude."

"Sorry?" He gave the boy an incredulous look, "Um, where are we, if I might ask?"

"Cupboard under the stairs."

"And...why are you in a cupboard?"

"Got angry and made the bacon explode of the pan." The boy shrugged a bit, uncurling from his hunched-over position and revealing a ghastly red mark along his cheek that was beginning to fade into purple and blue. He'd been hit hard.

Regulus winced, thinking of his mother and her right hook. He could sympathize.

"Is it locked?" He gestured at the small door, light peeking in through the cracks.

"No." The boy's jaw set in what seemed like anger and shame, "I know what happens if I leave early, though."

Hells, Regulus wanted to get ahold of this kid's parents. His own had been bad enough, at least they didn't lock him up. Well, he supposed, at least they locked him up in a spacious room with a comfortable bed. 

"What's your name?" The boy tilted his head, a scar just visible above his right eye. 

"Regulus Black, what's yours?" 

"Harry Potter." The kid gave him a small grin even as Regulus's brain ground to a halt, "Aunt Petunia calls me Freak most of the time, but to be fair I call her horse-face in my head."

He was slower than usual, that much was true. He hasn't really thought much about anything for, well, he genuinely didn't know how long. This kid though, Harry, looked exactly like James Potter. The same unruly black hair, same tawny brown skin, same mischievous look. It was the bright emerald eyes that set them apart, the shade an exact copy of Lily Evans'. Though, he supposed, she became Lily Potter right before his death. So, the likelihood of this being their child was...quite high, actually. Especially seeing as Aunt Petunia was likely Petunia Evans. He'd heard Severus speak quite colorfully about the woman when he and Lily had still been thick as thieves.

That did mean they were dead, though. Regulus could hardly believe bull-headed James Potter would allow anyone else to care for his child, let alone shut them away under the stairs. He didn't quite like the idea of the two dead; he wasn't particularly close to either of them, James had only ever said a handful of words to him that weren't filled with spite and he'd never initiated any meaningful conversations with Evans. It did mean, however, that it was quite likely Sirius was dead, too. He knew his brother better than most realized, including Sirius, and he knew how close he was with James. Sirius had often touted his best friend as his 'true brother' who'd been picked not by birth and blood but by choice and friendship. It hurt Regulus more than he'd ever know. It was because of this he knows Sirius would be the godfather or at least one of the godfathers. Lupin was likely the other, and the fact that neither of them were here...it meant maybe none of the Mauraders survived the war.

His chest ached with phantom pain, but he smiled down at the boy regardless. Sirius was probably dead, leaving behind only Harry as his link to the rebellious brother he never admitted to idolizing. He wanted redemption, that was what he'd been after when he stole the locket. Maybe this could be a part of that. 

He heard the door of the house shut firmly, keys jingling in the lock, and Regulus stuck his head through the door to check. It was an odd, cold sensation, but he pushed it aside. Whoever these horrid people were, they were gone. 

"They've left now. You can get out."

Harry shook his head, "They'll know."

"Why? They got wards set up around their cupboard door?" Regulus snorted, he doubted Petunia had married a wizard, "Unless they do, they don't know whatever you don't tell them."

"Wards?" Harry's brow scrunched as he said the word slowly, "What're those?"

Regulus's eyebrows must've hit his hairline, "Have they neglected your education this much? Do you even know the basics of potion-making? Transfiguration? Charms?"

Harry only stared at him with a blank expression as Regulus kept listing things he'd known practically before he could walk. By Salazar Slytherin, he knew muggles were a handful, but Petunia _knew_ her sister was a witch. Therefore she knew the boy was magical, and just outright neglected him in spite of it. Or perhaps, he thought grimly back to that freak comment made earlier, because of it. She'd been jealous of her sister her whole life, Severus had said, maybe that extended to her sister's son as well.

"Merlin, I knew the basics of ancient runes at your age. What are you? Six?"

"Eight." Harry pouted, "I don't even know what any of that stuff is, but it all sounds like what Uncle Vernon would label 'freakish shit' and I'd get beat for it."

Eight and that small? Regulus knew a thing or two about malnourishment, seeing as mother had often forgotten he existed before Sirius left. Some days as a child or during the summer after he began attending Hogwarts they just forgot to have the elves bring food to his room. He was a lot shorter than his peers as a result, a lot tinier too. He pursed his lips.

"I'll keep an eye out. Just sneak some food." Regulus gave him an imploring look, "Please."

"Fine." Harry gnawed on his cheek for a moment, a tense silence filling the small space as he gathered the courage to push the door open.

When it opened and revealed the entrance of the house, no horrid family in sight, the boy relaxed some. Regulus wandered behind him as well, casting a critical eye around the house. TVs, phones, the severe lack of any magical artifacts in the immediate vicinity. It further confirmed what he already knew; the people raising the boy were thoroughly inadequate for such a job.

"Bloody muggles." He couldn't stop himself, staring in disgust at the lack of magic around him.

"What's a-?" Harry paused, turning around to give him a baffled look, "I like to create colorful insults for them, but I don't even know what that means."

"Let's find food first. Then I'll...explain." Regulus jerked his chin up towards the kitchen, "Go on, get on with it."

"Why are _you_ bossing me around?" Harry muttered, "You barely look like a teenager."

"I'm eighteen." He snipped back, "Technically older than that, depending on the date."

"It's 1988, but you're eternally eighteen _and_ stuck with that outfit." The kid snickered, "Sorry, no getting around that."

Regulus made an affronted noise and glanced down at his bloodstained, torn clothes and figured it was a valid criticism. Internally, though, he was reeling. Hells, it'd been nine years. He'd almost expected more, but he guessed Harry had been born not long after his own death. It almost made it sadder, knowing the boy's parents had died that young. He may have hated James Potter, burned with jealousy over the theft of his brother every time he looked at the arsehole, but he hadn't deserved to die like that, trapped in an impossible war with an opponent who'd been, for all intents and purposes, immortal. 

Harry shut the pantry and Regulus snapped back to reality. He had a smashed box of granola bars in his hand.

"Aunt Petunia bought them for Dudley but he got mad when she tried to make him eat them and threw the box across the room. No one will miss them, I'll hide them under the floorboards." He sat timidly at the table, tense as if waiting to be berated, "So. What's a...a muggin?"

"Muggle." Regulus sighed, "So, you know how I'm a..."

"Ghost." Harry prompted when he saw Regulus hesitate.

He nearly rolled his eyes. What a wonderful amount of tact the child had.

"Yes, a ghost. Well, when I was alive, I lived in a world with magic. It's the same as this one, just hidden."

Harry was quiet.

"Your parents had magic as well, you know. Just like you probably do." Regulus smiled in a way he hoped was encouraging, "They were very powerful, and I would know. Your dad was my brother's best friend."

"They died in a car wreck." Harry's expression twitched, "Aunt Petunia said my father was a drunk and irresponsible and got him and my mother killed. That I had been lucky to survive."

Anger welled up inside him, the kind of fury that made your heart beat out of your chest. Sadly he no longer had a physical form for his non-existent heart to beat out of, so he ground his teeth together. 

"Your parents were not drunks, nor were they irresponsible." Regulus swallowed thickly, "They were brave. Brave enough to stand their ground against a man who wanted to see our world burn. Your father and my brother fought together, with your mother and the rest of their friends."

They'd been braver than Regulus, that's for sure. Regulus who'd been bullied into the mark by his cousins and mother, Regulus who'd watched muggles and muggleborns be tortured before returning home to vomit his lunch up, Regulus who only changed his mind at the very last possible minute. Regulus had many criticisms of Sirius and his friends, yes, but they were certainly brave. Brave and powerful and dead before their time. He wishes he'd been around, hoping against hope that he could've stopped his brother's downfall.

(He knows inside that Sirius and the rest of them were like fireworks; brilliant, lighting up the sky in a blaze of color, and gone too soon. There was nothing he could have done.)

"So why isn't your brother here? Or any of their friends?" Harry bit his lip, "Why was I sent _here_?"

A vase rattled precariously in the corner.

"Because they're dead, Harry." Regulus explained quietly, gently, "I don't think any of them made it. I'm not sure, I died before you were born, but if my brother, if James' other friends, could be here, I know without a shadow of a doubt they would be. Despite everything they were good people."

"So why haven't they come then?" Tears welled up in the boy's eyes, "I thought it was because they were drunks or because they didn't care about me! If all these people loved me so much, why aren't _they_ here?"

"They've moved on." Regulus said simply, "To whatever comes after."

"And you didn't?"

"No. I had too many regrets." The elder boy said, throat constricting with phantom grief, "I chose my side too late. It's a mistake I'll have to live with. Well, die with, I suppose."

"You didn't fight with your brother? With my mom and dad?" Harry's brows furrowed, confusion clouding his face.

"My mother...I was..." Regulus clenched his hands, "I was weak. I let others make choices for me that never should've been made. I was marked, branded like cattle, for a wannabe Dark Lord who was nothing more than a monster."

Harry frowned, eyes big and sympathetic, "You were scared, weren't you?"

Regulus froze.

"Like I am of Uncle Vernon," Harry said with all the wisdom of a child.

"It's not the same-"

"Isn't it?" Harry shrugged, pulling his feet up to rest in the too larger chair, "I do what they tell me because I'm scared, too. It's okay to be scared."

He shook his head sadly, pulling his blood-stained sleeve back to reveal his left forearm, "You don't understand. He gave me this-"

There was nothing. Nothing but pale skin, slightly translucent in his death.

"He...the dark mark..." Regulus's eyes widened.

"Looks like the mistake died with you, then." Harry rolled his eyes, "Besides, you knew my parents. You know magic! You have to stick around, you know that right?"

The sound of a car pulling up made them both tense. Harry flew into action, grabbing the box and any wrappers in his race for the cupboard. Regulus scanned the room of any sign they'd been there before following the boy swiftly under the stairs. Harry had already pried the floorboards up, stashing away the granola bars safely, and looked at Regulus with such a familiar look it made him ache.

"You'll stay?"

He had seen that look back at home, at Grimmauld Place, whenever he looked in the mirror. Because Harry was right, Regulus was afraid. Afraid of losing anyone else in his already unstable life, even his abusive mother. Scared of Walburga herself and her curse boxes, scared of Bellatrix and her knives, scared of Narcissa's judging eyes. Scared to face Sirius after all he'd said and done. Regulus couldn't remember a day he wasn't terrified up until the inferi dragged him beneath the murky waters and tore him apart.

"Yes. I'll stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regulus deserves better, thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also! I hope you enjoy this! Really can't wait for the Sirius & Regulus reunion as well as Sirius/Remus. 
> 
> And yeah Regulus looks like a hot mess right now; he's in the clothes he died in, which got pretty fucked by the inferi.


	2. Dark Revelations

Chapter Two: Dark Revelations

* * *

_And I finally see myself_   
_Unabridged and overwhelmed_   
_A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell_   
_But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell_

* * *

Harry was a smart child, Regulus soon found. Even as uneducated as he was in the art of magic, the eight-year-old caught on to the basics as quickly as Regulus could teach them. It was perhaps a bit dicey, what with not having textbooks, and Regulus was loathe to leave Harry for more than an eight-hour sleep cycle. He felt faded when out of the boy's presence, almost like he had in limbo. He assumed it had to do with his powers; Harry drew ghosts to him like a flame drew moths. He was right, too; they usually screamed. Regulus was startled out of his thoughts one night when he heard shrieks, rushing from the living room where he'd been laying on the couch to the cupboard in an instant. It'd been a ghost and a gruesome one at that. Covered head to toe in blood, body and head caved in like weak cardboard. A car accident, Harry determined from her shrieks. 

Regulus felt ill if that was even at all possible. 

Harry dismissed her soon enough, not even a flick of his hand and she was gone. When Regulus asked where she went he didn't get an answer. He assumed she moved on, to the After as they'd come to call it and all it entailed. Regulus mused on why he was different; Harry had no idea, either, and it was a real brain teaser. If they related horrid deaths to _that_ , then Regulus would be screaming his head off. The inferi weren't merciful, yet he was here with his sanity intact. He even felt relatively human; able to sit, or hover more like, and speak. That and, even though his clothes were bloody, he had no scratches or bite marks from being devoured.

"Maybe you're just meant to be here." Harry shrugged one night, dismissing Regulus's worries, "Maybe they sent you, you know? Your brother, my parents? They knew you were still here and so was I."

Regulus stopped making mental queries to his purpose after that, if only because it felt good to believe Sirius would have trusted him with something as monumental as this.

He had done some snooping in the Wizarding World while Harry was asleep, though, mostly trying to find any information on his brother and the Potters as possible. Everyone seemed quite tight-lipped, however, be it out of respect or fear You-Know-Who would pop out from some obscure corner and hex them. He had seen a few books, though. Books with Harry's name and his parents' names as well, proclaiming him the Boy Who Lived. He'd like to read them, but incorporeality was a bitch.

(There was nothing about Sirius anywhere. He tried to shove down any bitter hope he had left; life had never been merciful to him before, after all.)

Regulus had gathered, both from the title and his parents' apparent heroic deaths, that Harry somehow survive Voldemort. No, more than that, he vanquished Voldemort. From the reverent was he was spoken about by passers-by in Diagon Alley to the mountains of books about him, it was the only conclusion. Regulus just didn't know _how_. How could an infant kill an immortal? Unless Kreacher had destroyed the locket after all, or perhaps he'd taken it to Dumbledore or elsewhere for help. Regulus honestly didn't know how far he would take his orders.

(He could check, of course, but Grimmauld Place was somewhere he wasn't strong enough to venture yet. He couldn't afford to break; Harry needed him.)

Then, there was the last and most mind-boggling part of the entire situation; if Harry was the savior of the Wizarding World, why was he sent to live with abusive muggles? Even if the Marauders were dead, Peter Pettigrew included as Regulus hadn't found hide nor hair of the man, surely another magical family would be willing to adopt the boy? The Potters were prominent all by themselves, disregarding Harry's celebrity status to boost political and public opinion of whichever family adopted him. There was no logical explanation, and if Regulus was honest it reeked of Dumbledore. The man was a manipulative old coot who'd thrown his entire house of vulnerable teenagers right at the Dark Lord's feet and didn't even try to save them.

He refrained from spreading this so-called Slytherin propaganda to Harry. He couldn't imagine Sirius or the boy's parents would approve.

* * *

One morning, sat at the table a half-hour after Vernon went to work and Petunia took Dudley to a weekend group playdate, the two of them sat at the dining room table as Harry ate cold leftovers he'd scraped out of the pots on the stove.

"We've got to do something about that." Harry flicked his spoon at Regulus, "It's hideous if I'm honest."

"You just gestured at all of me." Regulus sniped back as he sat with his legs crossed, hovering about a centimeter above the chair below him.

"The clothes." The boy shrugged, "You've got blood and tears all over them."

"Well, that'd be more your expertise, hm? I'm not exactly master of the ghosts. You can move them on with a flick of your hand, why couldn't you change their appearance as well." The ghost raised an eyebrow, "It's an interesting theory, certainly. You say ghosts feel like pure energy to you, yes? That you can envision it in your mind?"

Harry frowned, "Pretty much. There's like a...connection there, that I can pull on. It's how I make them cross over."

"Well pull on the connection and get me a nice set of robes, how about it?" Regulus chuckled.

"I dunno what robes in the Wizarding world even look like." Harry sighed, "I don't know if I want to mess around with it."

Regulus looked at him curiously, "You'll never learn the full extent of your powers if you don't use them."

"Maybe on other ghosts, I will but..." Harry stared down into the bowl of porridge, "I'm afraid I'll accidentally make you leave. Make you go to the After."

He was touched, but not overly so. He'd come to think of Harry as a little brother and knew Harry regarded him similarly as an older brother, but what other options did the kid really have? Being the favorite out of the shrew of an aunt, the abusive uncle, and the sniveling cousin didn't really seem like much of a win. Still, it was a nice sentiment that Harry worried about keeping him around, even if he could just serve as a tutor. 

"Best case scenario, we learn more about your powers. Worst case scenario, you lose your glorified babysitter." He joked, trying to lighten the solemn mood, "Why don't we give it a go?"

Harry looked at him quietly, face completely serious, "You have self-esteem issues, you know that?"

"Yeah, well, it happens." Regulus shifted uncomfortably, "And you have no tact. If you did, you would refrain from pointing that out, even if it was obvious."

"Just saying." Harry shrugged, "You're more than a glorified babysitter. You're quite literally the only person who's ever cared about me that I can actually remember, and I'm also sure your brother wouldn't want to see you anytime soon. Even if it's as a ghost, you could still have a life ahead of you."

Low blow.

"Fine." Regulus sighed borderline dramatically, feeling far too similar to his brother in the process, "I'll stick to the blood-soaked rags for now."

Harry frowned. The boy hated blood and gore, understandably so after seeing the horrific visions of ghosts he had visit him on the regular.

Checkmate.

"I'll try. Just...tell me if you feel something off. And don't, uh, don't go to the light or whatever."

Regulus nodded. He felt nothing, even as Harry closed his eyes and screwed up his brow concentrating. Harry did a funny little jazz hands motion as he opened his eyes before his face fell, looking a bit apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Reg." 

"It's alright. You can't help it. Wouldn't want to accidentally send me packing, hm?"

Harry shifted. Regulus narrowed his eyes.

"What is it?"

"There wasn't, uh, any connection. No cord to pull, no energy to manipulate." Harry looked at him as if he were an enigma, "The energy is there, and I can see you obviously, but I can't touch it."

Regulus straightened, brows furrowing, "...Huh."

"Maybe you give it a go, then?" Harry suggested through a mouthful, nervously pushing his food around with his spoon, "If I can't manipulate your energy, maybe you can."

Regulus felt like laughing. He'd never been in control of his 'energy' a day in his life. Since his conception, Walburga had her hands on the strings and made him dance like a puppet. Nevertheless, he closed his eyes and pictured himself as he was in the moment. He visualized the change, much like he'd read animagus do when they're just learning the basic steps of transformation, and pictured himself changing. Robes, he thought, fending off all other thoughts. Robes. Finally, something shifted, and when he opened his eyes he was a touch baffled. Instead of the torn dress shirt, there was a muggle sweater on him, dark blue in color. He had a nice pair of jeans, dress shoes, and even the Black heir's ring sat neatly upon his finger.

(He'd taken it off before he went to his death. It didn't seem right to drag the entire family down with him, especially when it was rightfully Sirius' to begin with.)

"How-?" Regulus's brow furrowed, looking at Harry hesitantly, "Did you do this?"

"Wasn't me." Harry blinked dumbly, "When I tried I was imagining one of those stupid Polo shirts and khaki shorts with flip-flops and socks."

Regulus gave him an incredulous stare.

"I wanted to see you absolutely lose it." He snickered for a moment, "No idea how this happened, though. Must've been all you, what you wanted."

"I envisionedrobes, not muggle attire." Regulus sniffed slightly, "Not sure-"

"What you really wanted, not what you think you should want, Reg." Harry watched as the elder tensed at the nickname, "Your parents were really good at brainwashing, huh?"

"Rude." Regulus thumbed at the sweater, the dark blue reminding him of the soaring eagle emblazoned on Ravenclaw's seal and his pleas with the Sorting Hat to be granted the title of Slytherin, "So I facilitate the change, then?"

"Looks that way." Harry gave him a hesitant look, "Like how you're different from the other ghosts. If this Voldemort-"

"You-Know-Who." Regulus snapped tensely.

"Voldemort." Harry said again, slower and more deliberate, "He was killed by a _baby_ who just so happened to be me, I'm not respecting him. Anyways, if Voldemort technically killed you too-"

"By that logic, you could communicate with hundreds of thousands of dead wizards. Maybe even more if you want to get off on technicalities." Regulus sighed, "It's something else. Something we're not realizing."

"Hey!" Harry snapped his fingers suddenly, nearly dropping his spoon in the process, "Could you age yourself?"

He frowned, thinking it over before he tried the same thing. Visualization, focus, and when he opened his eyes he looked at Harry expectantly.

"Nope. Still eighteen." Harry said, "Maybe it's a mental age kind of thing. Well, no, in that case, you'd look sixty."

"Hey!" Regulus snapped, "Enough out of you. Eat the rest of your porridge."

"Yes, mum." The boy said mockingly.

That night, when Harry was sleeping, Regulus went to the roof to gaze at the stars. If he went back to the cave, would he find his bones at the bottom of that lake? Any remains? 

He felt a chill like he imagined one would feel if someone traipsed over their grave. Now wasn't the time for such questions, and he had no desire to find out.

* * *

Eventually, March passed, and then April, May, and June. July came and went with Harry's ninth birthday, which was all around a dull affair. That was saying a lot coming from Regulus, whose only celebration was generally Sirius sneaking him a cupcake. Still, he sang happy birthday to the kid and gave him a celebratory lesson of dragons of all kinds. He was as enthused with the topic as Regulus knew he would be; after all, what sort of boy didn't love stories about dragons? Especially if they were _true_.

August went much the same as the previous months, studying and avoiding Harry's family before, eventually, September rolled around and summer was finally gone. Harry returned to school with Dudley and was gone half the day, leaving Regulus without much to do except follow Petunia around the house and mock her out loud. It was petty, yes, and perhaps a bit useless as well. He had a lot of pent up rage against the woman and her husband, however, and verbally ridiculing her made him feel better. 

(He was starting to understand the Mauraders and the way they bullied the bullies of muggle-borns more and more. It was strange, caring enough about someone or something to want to hurt another emotionally or, given the chance, physically. He'd only ever felt that way after learning about Voldemort's Horcrux. Harry was essentially his _brother_ at this point, though, he was with him so often. He was certain he'd spent more time with this kid than he ever had Sirius and-

Well. 

Perhaps he understood Sirius and James Potter a bit more now, even if Sirius hadn't raised James since he was a child. He still wasn't overly fond of Sirius escaping without him but that was an internal battle for another day.)

Harry had begged him to come along at the beginning of the year, and Regulus nearly wishes he'd agreed. He'd be a distraction to the boy's studies, though, and even if he didn't give a squat about Algebra it was important for Harry to have high marks. If only to see Vernon and Petunia turn and ugly shade of purple. He was so _bored_ , though, and making fun of Petunia's crockpot recipes and ugly hair could only provide so much amusement. So, he made the executive decision to finally live up to his house's reputation and get gossip the good old fashioned way; by eavesdropping on important people. 

Walking into the Ministry of Magic without all the security checks and staring faces was odd but also relieving. He just waltzed in and, at that moment, realized he could do whatever he wanted. The Department of Mysteries and all its secrets would be _wide open_ -

He pushed down the curiosity, letting his feet take him down the path filled with luxurious offices. Various officials of increasing importance until, at the very end, a plaque on the door proclaimed the Minister of Magic. It bore the name Milicent Bagnold beneath it, the year elected listed as 1980 with an open spot after signifying it as her current position. She'd been elected right after his death, then, taking over for Harold Minchum. Interesting, seeing as that man could make his way out of a sock and was about as useless as one, too.

He phased through the door, looking at where the Minister's receptionist sat behind her desk with a couple of Aurors standing around chatting with her.

"-trying to get Malfoy." The taller one said, making the receptionist roll her eyes.

"You never will. It'd be like trying to pin the Blacks back in the day. Never happening, that is." She shook her head, "It's a pipe dream."

"Yeah, well, look at the Blacks now." The shorter Auror laughed, "Got what they deserved, huh? No one to even carry the family name now."

"Guess the house will be dissolved into the Malfoys." The taller one said, "One sister's in Azkaban, the other's disowned, so Lady Malfoy is all that's left. That'd make her son Lord Black one day."

Merlin, his grandfather must be rolling in his grave. He stepped closer, listening in on bits of the conversation and looking at the paperwork on the receptionist's desk to try and feel out the political climate of today. Must've changed a lot, when Voldemort died. If Bellatrix is in Azkaban, most of the death eaters probably are as well. 

"-glad that fuckin psycho's in there too, now." He caught the taller one saying and paused, "Can't believe he'd sell out the Potters like that."

Regulus's mind was going top speed. Remus? Peter-?

"Well, he's a Black." The receptionist said flippantly, "What do you expect? Even if he was in Gryffindor, you can only expect so much from one of them. Corruptions in their blood."

Sirius. 

Sirius, selling out the Potters?

He thinks back to their last discussion when Regulus had begged for help and been turned harshly away. Sirius had seemed haggard, but both forearms had been exposed. There was no dark mark, no chance for top-secret double espionage Regulus wouldn't know about having been a Death Eater himself. He was, sadly enough, in the inner circle along with Bella, his parents, and Narcissa. It was true he wasn't nearly as trusted as them; he was automatically suspect for not torturing and killing. However, his mother blamed his weak will and Narcissa blamed his weak stomach and so he was spared from much scrutiny outside of Bellatrix. Aside from all of that, he knew it wasn't possible. Sirius loved James like a brother...Sirius loved James more than his actual brother. He wouldn't sell James out, and he certainly wouldn't leave him to flounder like that.

(Not like he had Regulus.)

He wanted to yell at them that they were wrong, that his brother would never...but he couldn't. Of all the times he didn't want to speak up, was too scared to say something, now that he actually found the courage he was actually incapable. So he backed out the door as their conversation turned to this week's edition of the Daily Prophet and returned to Privet Drive, not breaking the news to Harry and trying to push images of his brother slowly rotting away in Azkaban out of his head.

(It should be a relief. Sirius was alive. Dementors, though, were known to drain the soul and he didn't want to confront a shell of his brother. So he stayed away from the wizarding prison, for now, tutoring Harry and silently appreciating the fact that ghosts couldn't cry.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Regulus :( He's really going through it. Also, can you figure out why Reg is a little different than the other ghosts? Also, what are your thoughts on Harry's Hogwarts house in this universe? Had a mention of Hufflepuff last time, I know.
> 
> (And yeah, I threw in my Ravenclaw Regulus headcanon because it just,,,,fits him so! well!)
> 
> (If it makes you feel better, while Regulus is suffering Sirius is suffering like 10x more. Wait, no, that's the opposite of feeling better.)


	3. Mending the Heart

Chapter Three: Mending the Heart

* * *

_I will shake the ground with all my might_   
_And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface_   
_For the innocent, for the vulnerable_   
_And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose_

* * *

It was the week of Halloween when Regulus realized just how much the veil truly thinned around this time of year. School was in full swing for Harry, and on top of being busy with his education, he also had a hoard of angry ghosts screaming at him from all corners of the house. They followed him around like shrieking ducklings, trailing out of the house when he trudged to catch the bus for class. Regulus watched sadly, knowing no matter how many the boy banished ten more would fill the space left behind. If he himself was on the verge of going crazy just by hearing them when he was near Harry, he couldn't imagine how the medium himself was coping. Not to mention Petunia and Vernon were particularly antsy on the days leading up to the thirty-first. 

It had happened at dinner. For as long as Regulus had been at the Dursley residence, he hadn't seen Harry hit. He knew abstractly that it had, they had even talked about it, the stories leaving Regulus trembling with rage. He hadn't quite worked up enough nerve to share the stories of his own mother and father. All Harry was truly interested in was the godfather he believed dead and, Merlin above, Regulus was trying to find a way to break _that_ particular news to the kid.

(He was also trying to work up the nerve for a visit to Azkaban. He hadn't returned to the wizarding world since he found out about Sirius; Regulus was, after all, nothing if not a coward.)

Harry had been bringing the roast over from the stove when he tripped on the rug. The meat and gravy went everywhere, Dudley started screaming, and Vernon had slowly risen from his chair. Petunia watched from the sidelines, eyes filled with disdain as she laid her folded napkin back on the table.

Regulus took a step forward. Vernon took his belt off.

Harry wasn't crying by the fifth hit. Regulus watched, frozen, with eyes tight and lips pursed in anger.

He felt like a child again, curled up in the corner of his room as Walburga tried to beat his brother into submission. No matter that he put his hands over his ears as Sirius had instructed him, he could hear his brothers screams. It was like an amplifying spell had been cast, no attempts to stifle the noise were victorious. Regulus's fists clenched, dread and fear and sadness turning into anger as a fire lit in his chest. He was no longer the little brother, being protected from the harsh reality of their home life. He was no longer weak, no longer nobody. _He_ had discovered Voldemort's Horcrux, _he_ had hidden the thing away with Kreacher, _he_ had ensured the one day the immortal would become mortal once more.

He was Regulus Black and he was so _damn tired_ of being afraid.

"We feed you, clothe you, _house_ you, and this is the way you thank us?"

Vernon pulled back, gearing up for an exceptionally large hit, and Harry clenched his eyes waiting for the impact-

That never came. Regulus stood in front of his cowering form, holding the belt tightly in a steel grip.

He felt strong, corporeal, and by the way Petunia and Vernon's faces went ashen, they could see him too. Dudley shrieked in fear this time over his sudden appearance, stumbling out of his chair and knocking it over in his escape upstairs, but his parents remained, seemingly frozen at the sight in front of them.

Regulus sneered, jerking the belt from Vernon's hands and throwing it across the room. It cracked as it collided with a cabinet, Harry's head popping up to stare at him with wide eyes at the foreign noise.

"Lay a hand on him ever again, and you'll face a fate worse than death." He said in a soft, strong voice that seemed to echo in the silent room, "I promise you that."

"W-who-?" Vernon's face went a ruddy red, anger and fear making him balloon up in defense, "Who the hell are you? How dare you come into my home-?"

"How dare I?" Regulus raised an eyebrow, power thrumming in his veins, "How dare _you_. You know damned well who this boy is."

His eyes slid to Petunia, who stood behind Vernon, shaking in her ugly, pink house slippers, "I know you certainly do. The sister you were always jealous of...I wonder how Lily would like you abusing her son? Is this your revenge on your _dead_ _sister_ , hm? Are you truly that pathetic?" 

He scoffed, months of rage coming to the surface, "You both are."

"You didn't answer my question, _boy_!" Vernon snarled, taking a step forward, "Who the _hell_ are you?"

"Regulus Black." He gave a sharp smile, worthy of his namesake, "Before I go; touch the boy again, I'll personally arrange your meeting with the reaper. And Petunia, love, I don't think you'll end up going where your sister did. Maybe turn up the thermostat? I'm sure you'll need time to get used to the heat."

He loosened his grip on corporeality with a final glare, "I'm always watching, you know. Better keep that in mind."

Even when he was gone, the Dursleys remained glued in place. Harry struggled to his feet, clearly in pain, but spared a glance at Regulus when his eyes welled up with tears. He shook his head once, hard, and Harry steeled his face, forcing back the wetness that threatened to spill. He might've been the lesser of the Black brothers, the more sensitive, the delicate one with a weak stomach for torture and killing, but he was still a Black at heart. The first rule he'd learned young was this; never, ever, under any circumstances, let them see you cry. 

Vernon took a step towards the boy, face menacing, before his eyes flickered to where Regulus, now invisible to their eyes, stood. He seemed to hesitate before turning around and storming off up the stairs. Petunia's hands were shaking and she sent Harry a shrewd look before she gathered herself and retired to the living room. Once they were gone, Harry scurried to his cupboard and turned on the lamp. He looked at Regulus with wide eyes and, all at once, threw himself at the other. As if on instinct, Regulus opened his arms and...caught the boy.

"How'd you do that?" Harry muttered into his chest, "Do this?"

"I was mad, I suppose." Regulus shrugged slightly, "I'm not...quite sure, really. Maybe...Halloween?"

"Maybe." Harry pulled away, wiping his eyes, "I hope you can stay this way, you know? Would make teaching me easier if you could actually steal books from Diagon Alley."

Regulus laughed, "Of course that's what you think of, you little thief."

Harry got quiet, brief smile fading, "Will it be worse now? Uncle Vernon was angry."

"If it is, I'll stop them. Just like I did today." Regulus swore firmly, "I promise."

"How? If it's just because of Halloween...if it's only when the veil is thin-"

"That doesn't matter." Regulus shook his head, "I'll find a way, no matter what."

Harry sniffled, much like Regulus himself had done as a child when he'd cling to Sirius crying. Regulus reached out and touched his shoulder, making Harry look at him once more.

"Don't be afraid."

* * *

His newfound corporeality didn't fade as Halloween passed, but the other ghosts did. It was back to a few stragglers every week that Harry could banish with ease, and Regulus could tell what a weight off his shoulders it was. A bonus to all this was now that Regulus could fade in and out of existence as he pleased, and the Dursleys knew it too from the looks of things. This made sure that Harry was in a much better standing within the household.

Dudley, particularly, was scared shitless and no longer picked on the boy and also warned his little crony friends away from Harry at school, so he quit coming home with bruises. Petunia and Vernon left him alone as well, for the most part, which was a huge development. He still got yelled at, and he still lived in the cupboard under the stairs, it was true, but he did a fraction of the chores he used to and, most important of all, the beatings quit rather abruptly.

(Then again, that might also be because Regulus made it a point to appear at random times in front of Petunia and Vernon when Harry was either at school or asleep. He would glare sharply before fading away, enjoying the way their faces turned white as sheets and their eyes bulged.)

Harry was also coming along quite well in his studies. Even though Regulus couldn't use magic, incorporeal or not, he was a decent enough instructor as it turns out. Wandless magic was, of course, a lot to ask of a child when even most adults couldn't accomplish the feat. So, without a wand, Harry was rather limited to learning the history of the wizarding world and the few subjects that could be taught without the need for actual magic. Potions and ancient runes, for example, which Regulus happened to excel at. 

They began with the Elder Futhark runic alphabet, which had its origins in Old English. Numerical runes were also quite simple, and Harry learned to integrate the two quickly. Personal runes were a bit more complicated and tied to a person's magical core, so he held off on those and left the topic with a brief mention and summary. However, learning was a process, and quite a few of Harry's ideas ended up...well...

"Would this work?"

"No! You'd blow the whole place up with that combination! Uruz and Thurisaz right next to each other? That's immense strength right next to reactive force. Though, if you put Algiz between them, it would perhaps make a good offensive warding combination."

They found out there was always room for improvement.

November blew by in a breeze as the air began to chill outside, meaning Dudley began playing indoors with his friends rather than causing trouble outdoors. Despite the threat of Regulus looming over the family, they both thought it would be wisest to stay out of the line of fire when possible. This meant Harry was spending an abundance of time in the cupboard and growing more restless by the minute. Regulus placated him by slipping out to Flourish and Blotts, where he managed to sneak a book about magical creatures out of the shop without paying for it. He was visible to others, he knew, because he got a few odd looks being in full muggle attire, but no one really paid him any mind. Everyone was in a rush for Yule presents and no one cared about a teenager who might look like the dead heir of the Black family.

(Not to mention he wasn't _technically_ a person, so the store's wards did nothing to stop him waltzing out with his prize. He made a note to take advantage of this in the future; he didn't particularly like stealing, no, but what was a ghost with no money to do?)

Harry's face, of course, lit up when he saw the moving pictures and glittering texts of the (quite expensive) book Regulus stole.

"I wish I could see it." He sighed wistfully, laying the book on the floor and flipping through the pictures eagerly, "I bet it's magical."

"Literally." Regulus had quipped, but internally he was formulating a plan.

When the eve of Christmas came, Petunia threw a fit about Harry being in the house.

"I want no freaks or freakish ghosts interrupting this party! Vernon's _sister_ is coming, so you will stay out of this house and go join Mrs. Figg!"

So Harry threw on a winter coat to fight the nip of the air outside and trudged down the street. Regulus stopped him when he started to walk to Mrs. Figg's house, though.

"Why?" Harry frowned, "Where are we going? Everything will be packed in London and I don't even have any money to get there, anyways, let alone go shopping."

"Think again, and you'll have even more soon enough." Regulus smirked, pulling out two five-pound notes, "And we're not going to London, really. We just have to stop there for a few minutes."

Harry caught on quickly and his eyes widened, following Regulus down the street eagerly, "Diagon Alley? You're really going to take me there? And did you _steal_ that from Aunt Petunia's purse?"

"Yes, I did, and yes, really. Don't act like I haven't seen you taking the money out of Dudley's coat for lunch when he isn't looking." Regulus rolled his eyes, staying corporeal so Harry didn't get odd looks from passers-by for talking to thin air, "Our first stop will be by Gringott's when we get there. You've got quite a large vault there, after all, and it should be enough to buy yourself a nice Yule present."

"I'll get to meet the goblins?" Harry's eyes widened, "D'you think they'll kill anyone while we're there?"

"Mm, no. They never do that in the lobby in front of guests." Regulus laughed, "Good to know what you're excited for, though."

"Just curious." Harry said, "Are there any dragons in Diagon Alley?"

"Outside of pictures?" Regulus shook his head, "No. Unless you want to try and rob Gringott's while we're there, then they'll feed you to the one they keep in the basement. At least that's what Sirius told me when I was a kid. He was always a lying prat, though, so it's probably not even true."

The bus got them to London quickly enough, and they eventually got to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry wrinkled his nose at the smell of alcohol wafting through the doors. Regulus nudged him in and followed after, keeping his head down just in case. He'd changed a lot since Hogwarts and it's been nine odd years since anyone has seen hide or hair of him, but better safe than sorry. Luckily in the last months of his life, he hadn't bothered with a hair cut so he probably resembled Sirius now more than himself, which he wasn't sure how to feel about. Not to mention it could be potentially problematic...still, Regulus looked eighteen, not thirty-something.

The place was just as dark and shady as he remembered. Harry stuck close to his side, gripping his sleeve tightly as Regulus led them to the brick wall that hid the wizarding street from view. From the rubbish bin, he tapped three bricks up and two across, watching the wall part for them to reveal the magic on the other side. Harry gaped the whole time as they stepped through it, looking on in awe at the magical snow some stores had decorated their roofs with and the magical twinkling Christmas lights that made floating shapes in the air. Children ran around behind tired parents everywhere around them, a few couples were out on romantic getaways, and some odd few witches and wizards scrambled around with bags full of last-minute presents.

"Well?" Regulus prompted as they walked down the street, Harry's mouth agape the entire time, "How do you like it? Does it meet your expectations?"

"Yes!" Harry said, "Yes, yes, of course, it does! It's amazing!"

He looked around, eyes full of wonder before he came to the large white building that towered above them, "Uh, is this Gringotts?"

"Yes." Regulus said, pausing right outside the door, "They would know me here. You'll have to do this part alone."

"Alone?" Harry startled, "What-?"

"You can see me, they can't." He explained, "I'll still be here just don't talk to me. They'll think you're mad."

The bank was, surprisingly, quite empty. Regulus supposed goblins could put a bit of a damper on the holiday cheer, but he nevertheless steered Harry up to the front counter with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Their footsteps echoed a bit on the intricately tiled floor, and the chandeliers above the cast the bank in a golden light. The goblin teller they chose looked upon them, or rather Harry, skeptically.

"Good evening, Mister..." Harry's eyes flicked down to the nametag written in Goobledegook, "Um..."

"Burgock." Regulus supplied quickly, being fluent in the goblin language.

"Mr. Burgock," Harry said quickly with a smile that seemed a smidge too wide to be completely genuine. 

The goblin remained impassive, but Regulus could tell he was surprised, "Yes, and how can I help you, Master...?"

"Harry Potter, sir."

"Of course." The goblin drawled sarcastically, "Interesting, as we've had four different Harry Potters in here the past month. Do you happen to have the key for your vault, Master Potter?"

It was said with a healthy dose of sarcasm. If Regulus were a lesser man he would cringe.

Harry glanced at him with wide eyes before turning back to the goblin, "Um, no, Mr. Burgock."

The goblin's eyes seemed to shine in amusement at the way he was addressed, "I see. And would Harry Potter be willing to submit to a blood identity confirmation?"

"Yes?" Harry said in confusion, "I mean, I don't see why not."

The goblin sighed, leading Harry and, unknowingly, Regulus to a room behind the teller stations and instructing him to sit in one of the plush, velvet-upholstered chairs as the goblin grabbed a piece of parchment and a needle. Regulus looked at the thick needle with some pity for the boy. 

"This will reveal your lineage," Burgock explained in a rather patronizing voice, "Any vaults you may or may _not_ have. Now, this will sting."

He pricked Harry's finger above the parchment rather roughly, a few drops of blood falling to the paper below. Slowly, the blood acting as activation to the enchantment, the ink began filling the page unprompted. At the top of the parchment read _Harry James Potter, born on the 31st of July, 1980_.

The goblin's eyes widened, surprise finally showing as the list of vaults began to appear.

_Vault 687, Potter._

_Vault 502, Peverell._

"I deeply apologize for my earlier skepticism, Lord Potter." He bowed deeply, "I can take you to your vaults right away."

"Well, take your pick, kid." He glanced down, "Apparently you've got two to choose from."

It wasn't all that surprising if Regulus was honest. The Potters were the second closest family to the Peverell's outside of the Gaunts, and the Gaunt family was all but dead.

"I think..." Harry looked at the goblin before glancing at Regulus, "I'd like to see the Potter vault. It was my dad's, right?"

The question was aimed at Regulus, but Burgock answered, "Yes, Lord Potter. Before you, it was in the possession of Lord James and before him, it was held by your grandfather, Lord Fleamont."

"Then I'd like to see that one, please." Harry nodded.

Burgock blinked at the boy, and Regulus knew he must've been quite astounded at the manners the boy gave to goblins, of all creatures. Wizardkind often took them for granted, after all, if not downright disrespecting them. It's why Griphook, who'd acted as the Black's personal banker, had much preferred doing business with Regulus over Walburga or Orion. Regulus had learned Gobbledegook at sixteen, having asked Flitwick for lessons to have better dealings with the Black family finances. Flitwick, ever to please a curious mind and having a soft spot for Regulus, agreed in a heartbeat. 

"Ask him that this be kept private, as well." Regulus said as an afterthought.

There was no way Dumbledore finding out Harry had been here would end well. 

"Also," Harry said as instructed, "Can I request that my visit is kept private?"

Burgock blinked, "Of course, Lord Potter. The only ones with the ability to know of your presence here today or your withdrawals would be the Lord of your family and owner of that vault, and that is you with the passing of your father. Under Goblin law no one else is required to know, and you have our assurance of the utmost secrecy."

"Good." Regulus nodded to Harry, who peeked at him from the corner of his eye, "Let's go."

* * *

Harry was still green from the cart ride even as they walked out of Gringotts with a small, velvet bag filled with galleons. Regulus led him to a secluded corner just outside the entrance to Knockturn Alley, which was understandably empty from the general population, and made his form visible to the general public once more. He patted Harry on the back with a small smile.

"Don't lose your guts, there." Regulus said, "I was going to show you the ice cream parlor, too."

Like most nine-year-olds, especially ones starved on a regular basis, he perked up at that, "Really? Where?"

"Later, when you don't look so green." Regulus led him back out to the street once more, visible again to everyone else, "What do you want to do now? This is your Christmas present, after all."

"Could I get a wand?" Harry looked up at him curiously, "Or is there an age restriction?"

There wasn't, not really. Most children received their wand on their eleventh birthday or right before they went to Hogwarts, but Sirius and Regulus had both gotten theirs at six as they started their magical education early. As long as the person looking for a wand had the money, there weren't many other obstacles. Now, the practicality of Harry's situation was unique to their circumstances. As far a Dumbledore knew, he was being raised by an anti-magic muggle family who would never bring Harry to get a wand. This decision hindered on the matter of Harry either wanting others to know about the whole seeing dead people thing or not. He told the boy as much, too.

"I don't really care." Harry shrugged, "What are they going to do? Tell me to stop?"

Regulus nearly snorted because he could practically hear his brother speaking out of Harry's mouth.

"I suppose you're right." Regulus conceded, "Not like you could quit if you wanted to. I just..."

He struggled with himself for a moment as they kept walking, weaving in and out of the crowds, "There's something you should know about Dumbledore. I haven't told you yet because I know your parents and my brother all trusted him, but..."

"Tell me." Harry stopped for a second, looking him dead in the eye, "I deserve to know. I don't want to go to Hogwarts only to get stabbed in the back by the Headmaster."

Regulus sighed and pulled the boy to one of the empty benches outside Ollivander's, "Dumbledore was a Gryffindor and favors them blatantly; he hates Slytherins. Everyone says that's a lie, but I lived through it. When the war came and Voldemort started recruiting, a lot of people in Slytherin were scared. They didn't want to join the Dark Lord, either because they didn't want to fight or they didn't believe in his ideals. For a lot of purebloods, it was hopeless to save them, of course, but the majority of the house could have been stopped if someone had just told them there was another way."

Regulus took a steadying breath, speaking quietly despite his anger, "Dumbledore let the bullying continue among the other houses. As soon as a few Slytherins joined the Death Eaters, everyone else lumped us all in with them. The stigma was impossible to escape, and only McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress, and Slughorn, our Head of House, really seemed to care. They couldn't do much though because Dumbledore brushed off any complaints. Eventually most figured what's the point trying to fight it. They joined because they felt spurned and because when they went to Dumbledore for help he turned them away. In comparison, to them at least, the Dark Lord was welcoming. They felt wanted in a way they weren't at Hogwarts, and they liked the feeling of belonging, so they took the Dark Mark."

"He basically gave Voldemort a whole army of child soldiers." Harry whispered, somewhat horrified, "Yeah, that's...probably important information."

"You'll have to be smart navigating Hogwarts as the Chosen One." Regulus said grimly, looking at the faces that blurred by in front of them, "It won't be easy, and everyone will be watching and waiting for you to fail."

"I won't fail." Harry said confidence, and when Regulus looked at him he had flinty determination in his eyes.

"I know." Regulus reached out and ruffled his hair, making it even messier than before, "Come on then. We're here anyway, let's go get you a wand."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter because I didn't update in a little bit, so I hope you guys enjoyed it! I thrive on the feedback and you guys' comments totally inspire me, so drop your thoughts below!
> 
> Regulus can touch things!! And be seen by people other than Harry!! Also, Harry found out the truth about Dumbledore being a tad bit manipulative. And he gets a wand next chapter! And visits a bookstore, where they might run into a certain werewolf who Regulus convinces that Sirius is innocent...
> 
> (Do you guys want a legal jailbreak? Or an ILLEGAL jailbreak? Or any jailbreak at all? Pros: Sirius is involved a LOT earlier, and also Wolfstar angst with a happy ending lmao. Cons: IDK honestly.)
> 
> (...Also lowkey agreeing with everyone saying Slytherin Harry. He is being raised by Regulus, after all, who's the ultimate SlytherClaw.)


	4. Feeling of Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check the updated tags! Suicidal ideation is discussed in this chapter! Take care of yourselves!

Chapter Four: Feeling of Home

* * *

_I will soften every edge_   
_I'll hold the world to it's best_   
_And I'll do better_

* * *

The interior of Ollivanders looked the same as it had when Regulus had gotten his wand as a child; piles of boxes stacked high to the ceiling, a creaky staircase leading up to the second floor where the workshop was located, and lights just dim enough to capture the organized chaos perfectly. The floors creaked as they walked in, a bell chiming as the door swung shut. They heard shuffling from behind the counter, boxes of wands being stored away until they finally chose their master, and Harry restlessly shifted from foot to foot. Regulus placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him still with an amused smile. It earned him an annoyed side-eye, but it was forgotten when old man Ollivander himself popped up from behind the counter.

He was even sloppier than Regulus remembered, with his messy hair and old robes, but the man's skill was irrefutable. 

His eyes widened when they landed on Regulus, making the young man tense, "Mr. Black! I had heard you were dead."

"You heard correct." He smiled tensely, "Though if my appearance here could be kept under wraps it would be much appreciated."

"Of course, of course." The old man looked at him sadly, "Cypress wood, nine inches, very flexible, Thestral hair core. An unusual combination it was, for I do not make or sell many wands of either cypress or Thestral hair, yet yours contained both. Cypress, associated with nobleness, and Thestral hair, representing a willingness to face death."

The wandmaker gave Regulus a look that seemed to cut right through him and look into his soul, "From the moment your wand chose you, I knew your destiny. Such is the burden of their makers, I fear. I was quite confused when you were sorted into Slytherin, you know, as Cypress is a wood that favors the brave and the bold, much like those of your brother's house."

Regulus said nothing, only pursing his lips.

"They say, you know, that some qualities of all the houses lay in the hearts of every witch and wizard. All it takes is the proper circumstances to bring them out." Ollivander nodded to himself, busying his hands with stacking boxes, "A bold wand for a conflicted boy, surely, but it knew your true nature and what lies in your soul."

He remembered when Sirius had gone pale learning his wand core was Thestral hair. Rumors have spread like fiendfyre over the centuries that those with Thestral cores were destined to die; surely enough his brother's fears had come true, even if by the time they did Sirius no longer cared one way or the other.

"We're not here for me." He said instead, swallowing his feelings, "I have no use of a wand anymore, after all."

"My apologies, Mr. Black." Ollivander nodded, eyes falling to Harry, "Though I'd imagine your remainder in this realm has something to do with this one?"

"This is Harry Potter, and you're correct." Regulus sighed, "He needs his wand. He will also need the utmost secrecy, which means no running to Dumbledore."

"When have I ever." The man drawled sarcastically, "Mr. Black, you needn't express concerns over security, though I'm open to an oath if it would put you at ease."

One thing about Garrick Ollivander was he knew how to throw people for a loop. His silver eyes were piercing, and Regulus half-believed the rumors that the man was a Seer. 

"Not needed, but thank you." Regulus said, "We shall take your word for it."

"How do I pick my wand?" Harry's eyes flickered between Regulus and the wandmaker, "You said Reg had a rare one? Will I?"

"It depends on what wand chooses you, Harry." The Black explained, "You just have to...try a few out, I suppose. Get a feel for what works best."

The first couple attempts at spells ended with a bookcase on fire and a puff of smoke nearly choking Ollivander, respectively. Wand after wand let out either an explosive charge of magic or a sad flicker of light, leaving Harry with slumped shoulders a half an hour in of trying different woods, cores, lengths, and flexibilities. Finally, the wandmaker excused himself, climbing the staircase and returning with a box that looked the same as all the others.

"Holly, eleven inches long, properly supple, and with a Phoenix feather core." Ollivander took the wand out of the box and held it out to Harry carefully, watching the boy with sharp eyes.

Harry waved the wand briefly, a shimmer of silver following in its wake and seemingly illuminating the area around it. Harry smiled, "It feels warm."

"It's as I feared, then," Ollivander announced gravely, wiping the smile quickly off Harry's face.

"What is?" Regulus snapped, eyes narrowed, "Is there something wrong?"

"That wand's core came from the very same Phoenix that supplied the feather for Voldemort's wand." He said neutrally, face carefully blank, "They are brother wands, as they're called in lore."

"Of course they are." Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose, happy he couldn't feel physical pain as a ghost because he'd probably have a migraine at this point, "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Voldemort." Harry said, frowning deeply, "The same one who killed my parents? Who killed your brother?"

Ollivander's eyes slid to Regulus questioningly, but the eternally-eighteen-year-old just cut him off with a sharp look.

"Yes. Probably something to do with this Boy Who Lived mess." Regulus said.

"I knew he was destined for greatness, too, you know. The sad thing about greatness is that it can be of either good or evil." Ollivander frowned, "Tom was once a promising young boy, much like yourself-"

"What did you say?" Regulus intervened, "Tom? You know who he is?"

"Tom Riddle, once a Slytherin much like yourself." The old man nodded, setting the empty wand box aside, "His true name before he refashioned himself as a Dark Lord."

"He bloody-" Regulus sputtered, "He was in the year below my mum! I know because I saw his bloody name on the Slytherin prefect plaque right below hers! That's who-? He's a _half-blood_ and he's claiming grounds of blood superiority? Not to mention Dumbledore _must know_ , Gods above, that manipulative old coot!"

Ollivander's eyes widened, likely only just realizing the tidal wave he'd unleashed.

Regulus barked out a bitter laugh, "He lets Voldemort gather power, connections, an _army_ , all under the guise of blood superiority. He _must_ have known if it came out that Lord Voldemort was Tom Riddle, a halfblood, he would have lost at least half of his support! If there's one thing ancient, pureblood families are good at, it's refusing to bow to those that they think are lesser. Why didn't he come forward with this information and make it general public knowledge? Besides all that, why were my mum and dad so bloody obsessed with the bastard if they _knew_?"

"Reg, calm down." Harry frowned, tugging on his sleeve, "I know blood pressure isn't an issue for you anymore, but it is for everyone else, and you're raising ours."

He huffed. Little brat.

"Young Mr. Potter is correct." Ollivander said, handing the empty box to Harry to store his wand in for the time being, "That will be seven galleons, now."

* * *

Harry walked out of the store nearly skipping and Regulus exited fuming. 

"Come on, lighten up some." Harry laughed, ditching the box in a waste bin and waving the wand around with wonder in his eyes, "I know it's a bad situation, trust me, my whole life is. Still, at least we have each other! Besides, as far as we know, Voldemort is gone now. Not that I wouldn't curse him well and good given the chance, but...I can't focus on the past. You shouldn't either."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, "You're nine, quit acting wise."

"Not my fault I'm smarter." Harry stuck out his tongue as they weaved in and out of the crowds.

"Well then, oh wise Merlin, where would you like to go next?" He spread his hands out mockingly, "I'd say to get a broomstick, but I think that'd be tempting our luck with your current housing arrangements."

"Where'd you get the moving book?" The boy looked around eagerly, "I want more of those."

"Flourish and Blotts it is, then." Regulus began leading the way, the quaint little shop visible from where they were walking.

It was packed with last-minute gift buyers, but they managed to get in without much hassle. Harry's eyes went the size of dinner plates at the way books were stacked from floor to ceiling, looking eagerly at the glittering bindings and bright colors. Other various trinkets hung around as well, replicas of golden snitches flying around and faux pixie tree ornaments fluttering their tiny wings midair. 

"Have a look around." Regulus said, "I'll be near the back by the registers. Come find me when you're ready to check out, okay?"

"You're not in a hurry, right?" Harry asked, pleading with his eyes.

"Of course not, besides, ice cream parlor is open all night." Regulus sent him off with a ruffle of the hair, ignoring the boy's grumbling as he flattened it out once more.

Regulus was half tempted to become incorporeal again as he reached the back of the store where things were significantly less busy, but he didn't want Harry not knowing and making himself look like a fool. So he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he took in the sights around him. It felt like another lifetime since he'd been in this position, freely exploring the wizarding world without the weight of his existence and allegiances of his shoulders. He certainly looked different than how he had when he'd last been in Diagon Alley as well; decked out in muggle garb, all the way down to his socks, and hair brushing the nape of his neck instead of the closely manicured style he'd worn before when it rarely ever made it past his ears.

"Hello, sir, can I help you find anything today? There's a sale-"

Regulus had turned around on instinct when a sales clerk addressed him, startling a little when the man's words became choked and died off in his throat. Then his memory recall kicked in and he realized just who was standing in front of him.

Remus Lupin.

Harry's other potential godfather.

Who apparently worked at Flourish and Blotts instead of giving a care in the world about his so-called best friend's son?

"I thought you were dead!" Regulus burst out before glancing around hastily, relieved when no eyes wandered their way except briefly at the loud noise.

Remus blinked, dumbfounded, "You thought _I_ was dead? Everyone thinks you're dead!"

A few people spared them glanced and Regulus hissed a shushing sound, grabbing Lupin with all his phantom might and dragging him behind the counter and into the stock room.

"I am dead!" Regulus snapped, "The real question is-!"

Remus shivered, shaking the ghost's hold on him, "You're freezing."

"That comes with being a ghost, yes-"

"A ghost?" Remus said incredulously, "You're a haunt?"

"No, I'm not a-!" Regulus nearly growled in frustration, "Am I screaming at the top of my lungs and swearing revenge?"

Remus eyes him wearily, "How are you here, then?"

"That's what I'm trying to get to! Are you telling me, to my face, that you're alive and just left your best mate's son to wallow with filthy, rotten-!"

"I don't have time for your anti-muggle rhetoric." The man's face darkened, "How do you even know anything about Harry-"

"Abusers!" Regulus bit out, "I don't hate muggles, but I do _so_ hate abusers. Oh, and how do I know about Harry? Well, turns out the killing curse made it so he can see the dead-"

"The _dead-?"_

 _"Which you would know_ if you bothered to take interest in his existence." Regulus said, "They hit him, Lupin! Or they did before I stopped them."

"What did you do?" The man demanded, "Regulus-"

"Nothing but a few well-placed threats, don't worry your petty morals." The Black scoffed, "Of course you don't care that I mention he's being abused, and instead side with the ones doing it."

"Dumbledore assured me, assured everyone, that he was placed into a safe home." Remus said quietly, "Why would I believe you over him?"

The reason why he trusted nothing Regulus said was left hanging in the air.

"Well then." Regulus took a step back, looking at the man in disgust, "I know how you feel on the matter. Don't worry, I won't tell him. Don't need to spoil the thought that his heroes are looking down on him, do I?"

Remus blinked, taken off guard for a moment, "You told him about us? About-about me?"

"Yes, I did." The younger man laughed bitterly, "I told him you, his parents, my brother, all of you, were brave and that you fought the Dark Lord to protect him, that he'd meet you again one day."

"That's unexpected, coming from you." Remus's expression soured, "I guess your brother ended up just like you, huh? Death Eater scum."

Regulus flinched back as if he were slapped, looking at one of his brother's best friends before him, accusing him of heinous crimes Regulus knows deep down he didn't commit.

"He didn't do it." Regulus said slowly, quietly, "You _know_ that-"

"What I know is two of my best friends are dead, Lily is dead, and Harry is parentless because of people like you and your brother." Remus nearly spit the words out, "Purebloods without any concern for others. Guess we shouldn't have expected much from Sirius, deep down he was just like the rest of you lot."

"That's not true!" Regulus straightened up, glaring up at Remus, "My brother is a good person! He's different!"

"I thought that once, too." Remus muttered, "Though I suppose to you, murder and torture are good things. It's all you Death Eaters know how to do."

"I died fighting against Voldemort!" Regulus whispered furiously, throat feeling raw as if he were screaming, "He made a Horcrux. Do you know what that is? No? Well, look it up. He made one and I found it, hid it away and it's probably long destroyed by now! He was mortal again because of _me_."

"Well, then, I guess you were both turncoats if that's true." Remus said grimly, "Shame you decided too late."

"Decided?" Regulus shook his head, "You know nothing, Lupin, and it's glaringly obvious. My mother decided. I let her. Because you're right, I do know _all_ about torture. She woke me up the morning after Sirius ran away with a Cruciatus Curse. She used them every day after that for a month. Wanted to be certain her _spare_ wouldn't run off, too. And do you want to know the most ironic thing? I never tortured a soul. Never killed anyone. I'd go home and puke my guts out, I'd take so much Sleeping Drought mother couldn't wake me up for meetings and accept the punishment later, I thought about cutting my arm off once and making a run for it, I was _this_ _close_ to-"

He stopped himself, breathless and heaving despite no air needing to fill his lungs. 

"To what?" Remus looked at him, a bit of the bitterness gone and some of the boy Regulus knew from Hogwarts shining through the angry persona, "This close to what?"

Regulus let out a small puff of breath and smiled, bitter and wistful and grim, "To stepping off the top of the roof and watching my world shatter."

Remus's brows furrowed at the longing way the words were spoken, shortening the distance between them as he took a step forward, "Regulus, I-"

The youngest Black took a step back in response, eyes cold, "Don't worry, I'm already dead. Besides, why would you care? I'm only Death Eater _scum_ right, no matter what or why or how I tried to make up for the wrong I did? No matter that I died to stop him? Was dragged to the bottom of a lake and torn apart by inferi?"

He shook his head, stepping back again to put more distance between them, "And you're wrong about Sirius, too, for the record. I don't say that because he's family, albeit even if he doesn't want to be. There's no way he betrayed the Potters, not even on the threat of death."

They were both silent, Remus regretting the words he'd spit in anger and Regulus regretting the ones he's said in confession. A child's voice broke through the tension, just outside the curtain.

"Reg?" Harry called, "Reg? I got a couple of books and I even found some cool candy! The frog-shaped chocolate actually moves!" 

It was quiet for a moment before Harry's voice got farther away, clearly hunting out his ghostly friend, "Reg?"

Regulus looked at Remus, bordering on anger and loathing, "You let him be abused for nine years."

"Dumbledore says he's safe." Remus swears, halfway to hysterical at the voice of his best friend's son, "He has to be _safe_."

"Well, he wasn't." Regulus sighed, "Still isn't. The family is volatile, jealous, and violent. Tell me, why did you never check on him yourself? Why leave it up to chance?"

"We trusted Dumbledore. He wouldn't lie." Remus lowered his eyes, "Besides, even if I wanted to take him in, I'm...unfit."

"Because you're a werewolf?" Regulus deadpanned at the drama, nearly ready to roll his eyes. Gryffindors were all the same.

Remus's eyes snapped up, "How did you know that?"

"I've known since Hogwarts, none of you were exactly subtle." Regulus said, "The others were animagus, as well. Not quite hard to figure out, especially when you all went to the same location at the same time every month. Now, are you going to face your Godson or not?"

The werewolf's face shattered, "He doesn't need someone like me in his life. He's better off without me. James and Lily were wrong to...impose me on him."

"He won't thank you for it." Regulus said, turning around without another word.

"Regulus?" Remus called out in a small voice before he could leave, "Do you really think Sirius is innocent?"

"I do." He said, "I also think if you ever had the audacity to claim to know my brother, to claim to _love_ him, you wouldn't have doubted that for a second."

He knew without seeing the man's face that his words had cut like a knife.

Good. He hoped the man wallowed alone in his pity, thinking about all he'd taken for granted and accepted with blind faith.

(Sirius might have disowned him, but he never disowned Sirius. Blacks were notoriously protective of those they considered family, after all.)

He walked out from behind the curtain, letting it flutter shut behind him, and Harry was upon him in an instance.

"There you are! I was looking all over!" The kid babbled, "I already paid, so we can go get ice cream now. Where were you, anyway?"

"I got caught up." He patted the boy's head, "Nothing to worry about."

Maybe something to worry about, if Remus went tattling to Dumbledore.

(Something about the man's sad, melancholy eyes made him doubt that he would.)

They ended the night, walking home with ice cream in hand. Well, Harry was carrying ice cream, Regulus was carrying the bags.

The Dursleys were silent when they entered.

(Regulus smirked at them behind Harry's back.)

* * *

It was a cold, rainy January morning when Regulus made the decision. School was back in session and Harry was gone, leaving Regulus sitting alone and guilty in the small house on Privet Drive. Ever since December, even since Christmas Eve and his talk with Remus, he knew he owed Harry the truth, but how could he do that when he didn't understand the situation fully himself? So when Harry left on the bus, he left as well.

Azkaban was just as grim as he pictured, and even more so in the cold, dark murk of an English winter. 

The fortress hovered above the dark, stormy waves of the North Sea. A small bridge used to welcome Aurors apparating prisoners in was where Regulus now stood, looking up at the desolate building before him. He hadn't even seen the Dementors yet, but he could feel the atmospheric change. He was sure if he had a need to breathe, the air would've been sucked right from his lungs. He made himself incorporeal, walking right through the enchanted doors and into the highly guarded prisons. As soon as he entered, he saw the cloaked figures who were nicknamed Death. Dementors filled the place, patrolling the halls for signs of disruption. Screams echoed throughout the place, the mad growing madder as every second in this glorified torture chamber sucked them of their will and soul.

He needed to find Sirius.

He had put this visit off for too long, left his brother at the mercy of these soulless beasts long enough, and he feared what he would find left of him. He had known Azkaban was bad logically; how could he not, after all? It was Azkaban. Hearing about it and experiencing it first hand, though, were two totally different experiences. 

As he walked down the hallways of shrieking prisoners, Dementors stared right at him when he passed. He knows the only reason his soul wasn't consumed was that he wasn't living; he didn't match the criteria, he was already dead, and so he was spared. He was inconsequential to them, and he was fairly certain they probably saw ghosts on a regular basis. Azkaban tended to be a life sentence, after all, and regular ghosts acted crazy enough. 

"Sirius!" He hissed loudly, walking through the rows of cells, "Sirius, where are-?"

He heard a loud gasp and cackle before suddenly a body was thrown on the bars of the cell beside him. He jumped back on instinct, despite being unable to feel pain, and looked at the pale and thin figure for any signs of recognition. The hollows of her face were gaunt, her skin a sickly white, her mane of curly black hair matted and filthy.

"Bellatrix?" He gasped, taking another step away.

She giggled again, a high pitch sound that sent shivers down his spine, "Ickle Reggie, what are you doing here, hmm?"

He shook his head, stepping away.

She tilted her own, curls falling over her shoulder, "Still so young? Are you-you are! A ghost! Ickle Reggie is a ghost! They said you died, our Lord couldn't feel your spirit any longer, but there wasn't a body to bury!"

She laughed gleefully at that, as if it was cause for celebrating, and reached a hand out between the bars as if to soothe him, "You needn't worry, Regulus, our Lord will return! Your death was not meaningless, He will bring you back! One day, you will join His ranks again!"

No man was powerful enough to defeat death, Regulus thought grimly, and Voldemort couldn't even prevent his own at the hands of an infant.

"I admit I'm pleased you came to see me." She batted her eyelashes, insanity plain to see on her face, "I was your favorite cousin, right? Well, aside from Cissy, of course...is Cissy alright? Is Luci treating her well?"

The cloud over her eyes, the ardent fever of devotion and support seemed to clear for a moment, and for just a second she was Bella Black again, protective elder sister of Narcissa and Andromeda. It reminded him of who she was before she devoted herself to the Dark Lord and before she declared her own sister a blood traitor, and he mourned what she could have been.

"Of course Narcissa is doing well." He said around the tightness in his throat, torn between disgust and pity, "I'm glad to see you, Bellatrix."

"Why so formal?" The Lestrange cooed, "I know we've had our differences, but I always did love you, Reggie. So much better than my other filthy cousin, after all."

He felt indignant like he usually did when she spoke of Sirius, but the thought of his brother spurred him on. Besides, she'd kill him without a second thought or mercy for what he'd done, so now was no time to be weak.

"Of course...Bella." The word tasted sour in his mouth as he tried to juxtapose the girl who'd used to braid flowers in their hair as children with the woman who'd caused the death and torture of thousands, "I have to go."

She called out for him, growing angrier with every step he took away, but he didn't stop. Her screams made the others act up as well, and the wailing grew overwhelming. He looked in every cell he passed, panic rising within him as he walked faster and faster down the never-ending prison. He began to run, not noticing the hallways stopped until he ran right into the cell nestled at the start of the turn. He ran straight into the thick metal bars, his head smacking against them with a sharp clang and his body hitting the floor with a thump.

"Glad I couldn't bloody feel that." He muttered, gathering himself and quelling his panic before he rose to his feet.

He couldn't see anyone in this cell. It was quiet, no screams ricocheting off the walls, and Bellatrix's shouts that had roused her fellow Death Eaters had faded a hallway over. He stepped closer to the cell, finally noticing a figure curled up in a ball and hiding behind the bed. Shaggy black hair and pale hands were all he could see, and if he had a heart it'd be in his throat.

"Sirius?" He called out quietly, phasing through the bars easily, "Is that you?"

He took a small step forward, inching his way closer, "Sirius, it's me. It's Regulus."

He heard a whine, a mutter of something he couldn't understand, and saw Sirius shaking his head from where it rested on his knees.

"Are you alright?" Regulus's hands were shaking, anxiety still affecting his ghostly form as much as it had his living one, "Sirius, please."

He kneeled on the ground, unbothered by the dust and dirt, and reached a hand out towards his brother. Sirius finally looked up with red-rimmed eyes, fear as plain as day on his face. 

"I knew you'd come and haunt me too." He breathed out before squeezing his eyes shut, tears gathering in the corners, "I'm sorry, Reg. I'm sorry."

Sirius let out a sob, his whole body shaking, repeating apologies over and over as Regulus knelt in front of him, frozen at the display of emotion. His brother had always shielded him from his worry and sadness; he hadn't even known he'd been planning on running away until he was already gone.

"It's me." He whispered back, "I'm not here to haunt you, Sirius. I'm not a hallucination."

"Then what are you." Sirius gasped out, looking up at him once more, "Because my brother is _dead_."

He let out another sob, muffling it with a dirty hand. Regulus didn't know what to do, only reaching out and laying a hand on his brother's arm. Sirius froze, looking at where Regulus touched him in shock before his eyes flickered back to his brother's and some clarity entered them.

"Reg?" His brother gasped, "How-? You look eighteen, and-and why are you so cold? How are you here, _why_ are you here, you need to _leave_ -!"

"Sirius!" He snapped, gathering the older's attention once more, "I'm not a hallucination but I-I am dead. I'm...a ghost."

"No." Sirius shook his head, "You're not. Ghosts can't touch, ghosts aren't, I mean, haunts are mindless. And even the ghosts at Hogwarts couldn't touch anything but other ghosts."

"I'm different, I suppose. We still haven't figured it out." Regulus sighed, "I...Harry is your godson, isn't he?"

Sirius looked at Regulus, dumbfounded, "How do you know about Harry? You d-died before he was even born."

"Harry is a medium of sorts. He attracts ghosts and can see the ones that can't make themselves visible. He, well, somehow I can become corporeal. Not sure about the cause of that."

"You _died_." Sirius muttered, his expression practically shattering in grief, "Merlin, you're dead, and I-I didn't _listen_. I'm sorry Reg, I'm sorry I didn't listen, and then you went out and got yourself killed for _them_ -"

He spat out the last word poisonously, practically shaking in anger as he worked himself up, but Regulus just shook his head sadly, "I didn't, Siri."

His brother paused, "What do you mean? You died a Death Eater, Mother made you-"

"I found out something horrible." Regulus clenched his jaw, "It would take too long to explain, but it made the Dark Lord immortal. He wasn't...he wasn't human. He was sick, a monster, and I had to do...something."

He looked at Sirius with pleading eyes, watching the way his brother's face slackened in realization, "I had to do something."

Sirius spoke slowly, "What did you do, Regulus?"

"The night I came to you, I had a plan." He stared at his shaking hands rather than meeting Sirius's eyes, "The Dark Lord had taken Kreacher for something, I didn't know what, and Mother had demanded I let him make use of him. He came back horribly wounded, he couldn't even speak at first. When he finally recovered and told me what happened, I realized what Voldemort had done. He made a Horcrux. As I said, it makes him immortal, and I couldn't let it go on. So I planned to have Kreacher take me to the cave where it was hidden."

"You were going to ask for help." Sirius whispered, horror filling his face, "You were asking for help and I turned you away. I said no and I _sent you to your death_ after slamming the door in your face."

"Why would you have believed me?" Regulus said in a hushed voice, "I wasn't your brother any longer, after all."

Sirius's face went nearly white, "I know what I said and I didn't mean it. I was angry at you for what you did, for listening to that bitch, but I-I shouldn't have said that. I've regretted it ever since. You are my brother, Reg, you never stopped being my brother."

Regulus trembled, very thankful he had no functioning tear ducts to speak of, and pushed on, "Needless to say, you believed we were on very different sides of the war. I don't blame you, I swear."

"But I do." Sirius muttered, looking away, "What a failure. Couldn't protect my brother and I couldn't protect..." 

He choked up, tears flushing his eyes once more, "Does Harry know? What they're saying I did?"

Regulus shook his head, eyebrows pinching together, "You didn't do it."

His brother looked at him, a numb kind of shock on his face, "You believe me, then?"

"Of course I do," Regulus said as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Sirius teetered forward, grabbing him in a crushing hug, and Regulus was reminded of their childhood before everything went to Hell. 

Sirius finally released him, pain in his eyes and on his face, "Remus didn't, Remus thought I...he..."

"He's wrong then." Regulus said firmly, "They're all wrong."

"It was Pettigrew." Sirius hissed, tears falling down his cheeks, "We trusted him to be the Secret Keeper, we were foolish, and he double-crossed us. It's _his_ fault James and Lily are dead...mine too, for being that bloody naive. I tried to kill the bastard when I found out, I..."

"That was your mistake." Regulus sighed, "A complete Gryffindor move, even if I don't blame you. Let me guess, he shifted to a rat and scampered off?"

Sirius looked at him in confusion, then a bit of awe, "Smart little bugger. Always said you should be a Ravenclaw."

"The hat wanted to put me there." He said, confessing something in death he never had in life.

"I knew it." Sirius smirked slightly, some of his old smugness coming back to him, "You were too smart for Slytherin."

"The hat said I would still fit in. The cunning and ambitious, after all. They're not...they're not all bad, just because you lot hated Snape, you know. I did ask to be put there, though." Regulus glanced away, "I was too scared to see what would happen if we both were sorted outside of Slytherin."

Sirius frowned then, glancing at his feet from where he crouched on the ground in front of Regulus, mimicking him, "You never answered me. Does Harry know?"

"No." Regulus sighed, "I thought you were dead, you know? Even mourned you. Then I found out you were an idiot and got yourself locked in Azkaban."

"Good." He sighed in relief, "I never want him to know. Let him think I'm dead for the rest of eternity, please."

"He'd find out sooner or later, and besides, you're not staying here." Regulus sniffed, glancing around in disgust, "We're getting you out as soon as possible. Legally, of course."

"How-?" Sirius snorted, "Good luck with _that_. They didn't believe anything I said. Don't see how you could do any better than I could."

"Oh, we'll see." Regulus looked at him imperiously, "I am the smarter brother, after all."

"Bollocks." His brother barked out a laugh, "I'll tell you what, I'll admit that when I'm a free man again."

"Deal." Regulus grinned sharply, "I won't forget, either."

Sirius faltered, "Reg, I don't know what to say-"

"I always knew you were innocent." He shook his head, "From the minute I found out why they threw you in here. You would never betray James. Merlin's beard, I mean, you loved him more than your own brother."

He said it as a joke, but it fell flat quite spectacularly.

(Probably because he hadn't meant it as a joke. He believed it.)

Sirius frowned at him, "Regulus-"

"I have to go." He said quickly, not ready for anything heavier than the topic of his literal death.

(Like his self-esteem issues, suicidal ideation, or self-hatred, to name a few.)

Regulus stood, and Sirius stood with him, grabbing his arm before he could go.

"Don't just walk off after saying that, we're talking about this-" Sirius demanded.

"There's nothing to talk about, it was a joke made in poor taste." Regulus phased his arm out of Sirius's grip, watching it send a chill down his brother's back from the sudden cold.

Sirius looked stricken for a second, as if forgetting Regulus was a ghost, then shook his head, "Why would you even say something like that-?"

"As I said, it was in poor taste-" The younger Black tried interrupting again, frustration building.

Sirius gestured wildly with his hands, his face scrunched in hurt, "Reg, why would you even _think_ something like that? Bloody hell-"

"Gee, I don't know Sirius, maybe because you didn't give a shit after you ran away?" Regulus snapped, "Or maybe because I literally died thinking you wouldn't care."

Sirius looked as if someone had smacked him, hands falling down to his sides, "Reggie..."

"I'll be back soon." Regulus quickly crossed the cell, walking through the bars, "And if you can figure out how to wandlessly conjure a Patronus, do it. It's how to fend off the dementors."

"Regulus!" Sirius shouted after him, "I'm not done! Reg, please, come back, we need to talk-!"

"Later!" He called back, guilt at what he'd said clawing up his throat.

He was soon standing in front of Privet Drive once more, incorporeal, and totally alone. 

"Later." He whispered to himself again, entering the house to wait for Harry.

* * *

It was three in the morning when he heard a noise outside.

Everyone was in bed, and Harry had come home with a bruise on his arm from some bully so Regulus had stolen one of Petunia's awful salmon pink quilts from the living room as a pick me up. The boy was so skinny he was always cold, and if she had an issue she could take it up with Regulus. He was sure to lock the cupboard from the inside whenever they weren't there now, anyway, so none of the Dursleys could mess with Harry's things so she had a fat chance of getting it back.

The day had gone like so many others, outside of the fact that Regulus had confronted his brother and now had to plan how to get him released all by himself. He kept himself busy and tried not to dwell on it, though; as soon as Harry finished his muggle schoolwork, they begin his magical studies, and it was more than enough to keep Regulus distracted. He can do small spells with his wand, but is much more familiar with ancient runes and potions ingredients, as that's what he'd started out on. Needless to say, he didn't have time to be sad.

So Regulus ignored the chaos in his head and settled down for a nice book once everyone was asleep. Until that is, he heard the noise outside.

Which just so happened to be Remus Lupin, soaked to the bone and shivering, standing on the Dursley's porch and taking shelter from the rain. 

"What the actual hell?" Regulus said, looking at him incredulously.

"We need to talk." Remus said.

Regulus sighed. Why was his afterlife a complete shit show?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't blame Remus for being mean, he has depression okay :(( Regulus also does, but he's already dead (as he pointed out) even tho Remus is still vaguely Concerned TM. 
> 
> (Yes, Remus will tell Sirius all about that conversation once he gets out. Yes, Sirius will be very upset his younger brother went through all that. Yes, Walburga is burning in Wizard Hell.)
> 
> Also sorry for the cliffhanger! And yeah, Reg made Sirius sad, that'll come to a head eventually, don't worry. Regulus has self-esteem and abandonment issues that it'll take him a while to work through. He so genuinely believed his brother didn't miss him or wouldn't mourn him, and that's some hard shit to believe, so he tries to cope with humor and Sirius called his ass out.


	5. A Past Better Forgotten

Chapter Five: A Past Better Forgotten

* * *

 _There's magic in our bones  
_ _A north star in our soul_  
 _That remembers our way home  
God, it's easy to forget_

* * *

Regulus gave the werewolf a long look, "Talk about what? I believe I said all that needed to be said."

Remus nearly flinched, wincing as he considered what to say, "You...you did, yes."

"Well, then, kindly apparate yourself back to wherever you came from." Regulus scrunched his nose slightly, looking Lupin up and down with the classic Black sneer, "Contrary to popular belief, ghosts can smell, and all I'm getting right now is the lovely aroma wet dog."

The older man gave a frustrated sigh, "What I mean to say is you said what I needed to hear. I never...Well, I always hoped Sirius was innocent. They said there was no need for a trial, though, because the evidence was definitive. I couldn't believe it at first, but Dumbledore and Fudge explained it all and it was corroborated with the surviving muggles' testimonies. How do I look past that?"

"Gee, Remus, ever consider why the other bodies were blown to bits but they never found Pettigrew? Or the fact that that you never personally heard the testimonies before the muggles were obliviated? Fudge could have claimed they said anything, especially if Dumbledore agreed to back him up." The younger Black said, sincerely sarcastic, "Use your brain for once, Merlin's sake, you were the bookish one! What could Pettigrew transform into?"

"A rat?" Remus's head tilted slightly, "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Bloody hell, you lot are dense." Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose, "Pettigrew threw the blasting curse, Lupin. It's why his body was never found; he cut off his finger and left it as proof of his death to escape. A _clean-cut_ finger, mind you, that wasn't even charred. I read the Prophet archives, and it's painfully obvious. Pettigrew betrayed your friends-"

"Sirius was the Secret Keeper!" Remus snapped.

Regulus gave him a sad look, "They didn't tell you they switched Keepers then?"

The werewolf faltered, blinking in confusion, "What?"

"Sirius probably thought he was too obvious. He was likely scared Bellatrix would specifically target him, after all his allegiance was something she took personally, and he feared they were on to him to boot. So they made Peter Pettigrew the new Keeper."

"They never said..." Remus trailed away, looking pale, "I wasn't around much during those last months, I suppose. My lycanthropy got bad, very bad, and I left. Merlin, I never should have left."

The werewolf staggered backward, dropping into one of Petunia's delicate little decorative chairs she kept on the porch. He imagined her reaction when she found a sopping wet mark on the cushion the next morning with glee. He truly didn't know if being a ghost made him vindictive, or if he was always like that and just too scared to express it. 

"I'm sorry you found out this way," Regulus offered an olive branch of sympathy, "But Sirius wasn't the traitor and I won't suffer hearing another frankly pathetic argument against him."

Remus looked up at him from under his wet hair, "I never thought you'd be so protective of him. You two didn't seem to particularly like each other."

"You mean I was quiet and Sirius was very loud with publicly denouncing me?" He said dryly, "Just because he tried to get back at our parents through me doesn't mean I blamed him for it. I was angry for some time, yes, but I understood, in a way. I was glad he escaped."

Brown eyes looked at him in naked curiosity, making Regulus's skin crawl. He hated attention.

"Sirius always made it seem like you were the golden child. The favorite." Remus winced like he remembered what Regulus had previously said, "I, uh, suppose that's not the case, then?"

"Definitely not." Regulus gave a wry smile, "Walburga had no favorite. She hated us both, only had us out of duty, truly."

"She sounds lovely. So sad I never got the chance to meet her." The werewolf stood once more, "How are you going to do this, Regulus? You're quite literally dead and, no offense, I don't think they'd take your testimony in court as you weren't even alive when the events happened."

"No, they wouldn't, would they?" Regulus mused, "I know someone, though she might not even want to speak with me."

"Should I even ask?" Remus raised an eyebrow, and took the following silence as an answer, "Right. Are you going to tell Harry?"

"Not about Sirius, not yet." Regulus stared at his palms, worry making a home in his heart, "I'm afraid of his reaction if Sirius isn't released. He has a habit of clinging to any bit of hope he can and I don't want to see his heart crushed again. Better he thinks him dead until he gets to see him in person. He already grieved for him once."

Remus was quiet for a second, "What about me?"

"What about you?"

"Will you tell him about me?" Remus swallowed loudly, lips twitching in anxiety, "That I'm alive?"

"That you left him, you mean?" The youngest Black narrowed his eyes, "I'll leave you to do that, I have no want or need to do your dirty work. He's inside, you know. I can go get him if you'd like."

"Would it be better to just rip the bandage off?" Remus's eyebrows furrowed, "Would he forgive me?"

"I can't say." The other man shrugged, "He's a good kid, though, and he deserves better than he's been given. Be it by you, the world, Dumbledore, he deserves more than this shoddy lot in life. You owe him this, Lupin."

The other's head bowed for a moment before he squared his shoulders and looked Regulus in the eyes, nodding once, "You're right. Is he asleep? Will he be cross about getting woken up?"

"I think he'd rather meet his long lost godfather than sleep." Regulus rolled his eyes, "Besides, kid's got an eternal case of insomnia. He probably already woke up and noticed my absence. I'll be back, stay here."

His eyes promised pain if Remus backed out, and for once in his life, Remus seemed to believe him wholeheartedly.

* * *

He phased through the door, poking his head in first and finding Harry awake as expected, reading a book on potions. He ducked fully into the room, ignoring the growing need to wring his hands, and sighed when Harry looked up at him curiously.

"What's wrong?" The boy's face immediately scrunched in worry, "You look nervous. Did you actually go through with breaking Aunt Petunia's china? I promise I won't be mad. Well, maybe a little, but that's only cause she'll make me clean it up."

"No, it's nothing to do with her precious teacups." He rolled his eyes, crouching to look Harry in the eyes, "We need to have a talk. It might be hard to hear but-"

He cut himself off when he saw tears swim in Harry's eyes despite the boy's efforts to blink them away.

"It's okay." Harry said too quickly, voice cracking, "I get it."

"Get...what?" Regulus tilted his head in confusion, "Did you hear us talking?"

"Who's us?" Now Harry blinked in confusion, sadness momentarily forgotten, "No, I understand if you want to leave."

"Leave?" The Black shook his head, "Why would I leave?"

"You can't be having much fun tutoring a kid who isn't even your responsibility." Harry shrugged, "You can become corporeal now. You could travel anywhere in the world, do whatever you wanted with no worries about money. It sounds better than being stuck cramped under the stairs, you gotta admit."

Regulus sighed, "When I said I was staying I meant it. Get that through your thick head."

Harry relaxed some, but then looked at Regulus wearily, "If you're not leaving, then what is it?"

"You remember when I told you about one of your godfathers? Remus Lupin?"

"Yeah, the werewolf. He died in the war." Harry set the book aside, resting his chin on his knees as he hugged his legs to his chest, "Why?"

"He didn't die." Regulus went for the direct approach, not wanting to beat around the bush or for Remus to contract hypothermia from being outside in the cold for too long.

Harry was silent, staring ahead and seemingly lost in thought.

Regulus reaching forward, laying a hand on his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"When did you find out?" The kid asked in lieu of answering.

"The day we went to Diagon Alley. He works in the book shop. I told him about you, but he was too scared to face you."

"Why?" Harry asked, brow furrowed, desperate to understand, "Why would he leave me here? Did he _know_?"

The last word was loaded with so much more than simply wondering if Remus knew his location. Regulus gripped the boy's shoulders, looking him in the eye.

"He did not." He said firmly, "He did know anything about any of that. He was only told you were safe and with family. Dumbledore lied."

"Dumbledore." Harry's mouth twisted in just restrained anger, "He seems to do a lot of that."

Regulus let out a sharp laugh, releasing the boy, "You have no idea."

Harry was quiet for a beat longer before, "You're sure he wants to meet me?"

"I'm positive."

The boy nodded, still hesitant and scared of rejection, and followed Regulus out to the living room. The ghost grabbed one of Dudley's winter coats off the hook and forced the boy into it, despite Harry's grumbling.

"It's wet and cold outside, I'm not having you get sick under my watch." Regulus snipped back before opening the door. 

Harry stayed partially behind Regulus like one would hide behind a guardian, peeking out slightly to see the young man with tired eyes in front of him. Stepping out slightly, he regarded the man with sharp eyes and a closed-off expression, holding out a hand that he refused to let tremble.

"I'm Harry." The boy said, forcing his voice to stay steady, "It's nice to finally meet you."

Remus knelt before the boy shaking his hand gently, "I'm Remus Lupin, but you already knew that."

He pulled the boy into a hug in the next second, and Regulus saw Harry stiffen before sinking into the hug and clutching at the back of Remus's wet coat. The werewolf sniffled slightly, struggling to hold back tears as he held his godson for the first time in years. 

"You look just like your father." Remus whispered, "You have your mother's eyes, though."

Harry finally lost it, letting out a hiccuping sob as he clung to his godfather tighter. 

"Why weren't you there?" The boy got out between sniffs, tears falling profusely, "Why didn't you want me?"

"I wanted you, Harry." Remus said fiercely, "Never doubt that. You're my godson and I love you. Dumbledore said you were with family, though. He said I wasn't fit to raise a child and I foolishly believed him when he said you were safe. I've never been more sorry in my life, and I promise I'll be here for you now. If you want me to be, that is."

Harry nodded into Remus's shoulder before pulling back, wiping his tears quickly, looking between Regulus and Remus, "So you guys knew each other, right? You both went to Hogwarts?"

"Yes." Regulus rolled his eyes, "Though Remus wasn't nearly my biggest fan."

Harry turned to Remus, completely serious, "You have to like Regulus. That's non-negotiable."

Remus let out a baffled little sound, eyes darting between the boy and the ghost. Regulus only sighed deeply.

Harry nudged the younger Black in the ribs with an elbow, earning him a swat to the head, "It is! He protects me from the ghosts, from the Dursleys, from everything. You can't just _dislike_ him!"

"Well, then." Remus let out a nervous laugh, "He can't be so bad if he does all that."

The werewolf glanced at the young man ( ~~ _really just a boy of eighteen_~~ ) he thought he knew and realized every time he came into contact with Regulus he got thrown a curveball.

"Exactly." Harry nodded, "Er, I'd love to invite you in, but..."

Remus blinked, looking at the house and then the pouring rain out on the street, "I don't think your aunt and uncle would appreciate that, no matter how much Regulus scares them."

The person in question coughed to hide a laugh.

Remus felt a headache growing, realizing just how similar the Black brothers could be.

"I suppose...Dumbledore doesn't have wards on the place, does he?" Remus's gaze flitted to Regulus, "He doesn't know when Harry leaves?"

"No wards, no protections, no blood magic." He confirmed, a small smirk tugging at his mouth, "Why Lupin, inviting us over?"

"I mean-" Remus tried to deflect, but the damage was already done.

"You have a house?" Harry questioned excitedly.

"Yes, well, an apartment above the book store-"

"Even better!" Harry reached out to tug on his hand, "Can we come over? Can I sleep on the couch?"

Remus seemed chocked up for a moment before he regained his composure, "Sure. How about this, I have a spare room and you can take the bed for now."

The boy seemed so excited he could burst.

"Will, ah, will his aunt and uncle wonder where he is?" Remus questioned, giving the house one last questioning look.

Harry and Regulus scoffed at the same time.

"Aunt Petunia basically encourages me to fall into a ditch every morning on my way to school and not get back out." Harry rolled his eyes, "As long as I'm not bugging them, they don't care anymore. I'll go get my bag and my things!"

Remus weakly protested that he wasn't moving in, but it fell on deaf ears.

"You wouldn't send him back, would you?" Regulus sent him a sideways glance, "If he asked you to let him stay, would you?"

Remus glanced down to his feet, guilt heavy in the slump of his shoulders, "Of course."

"Good. I'm going to take care of some things." Regulus said, his eyes far away, "I'll join you both soon if you don't mind me coming over as well?"

Remus laughed a little, as if the question was a bit ridiculous, "No, Regulus, you can't come over after raising my godson and protecting him for, what, a year now?"

Regulus's lips tilted up ever so slightly into a smile before he faded from existence. Remus felt a chill roll down his spine and the goosebumps remained even as he apparated Harry to his humble home.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy was not one to be fatalistic, nor was she one to be superstitious. She'd woken the previous morning with horrid night terrors, though, Lucius shaking her awake with beads of sweat from worry clinging to his forehead. She'd been screaming, he said. The rest of the day was not much better; it was the eve of their Yule celebration, though, and she had decorations to attend to and house elves to order. The day had trudged by, Draco being unusually fussy, and something just felt... _off_.

When she awoke at nearly four in the morning, sweat dripping down her neck and goosebumps covering her arms and legs, she decided some chamomile tea with honey would perhaps soothe her nerves. So she covered herself with an evening robe over her nightgown and walked downstairs to the kitchen. While she charmed the water, she felt as if she were being watched the entire time. It did nothing to abate the chills running up and down her body, either. The room even seemed colder.

So, when she sat down on her living room couch, spelling a lamp to turn on and sipping daintily at her tea, she was almost unsurprised when a shimmering form began to condense into a body before her very eyes.

 _Almost_ unsurprised, to clarify. It was still a ghost sighting, and they were most unusual before Hogwarts. 

However, when the form revealed itself to be none other than Regulus Black, her long-dead and dearly missed cousin, she jolted and stood up so fast the tea sloshed over and spilled onto her hand. She ignored the burn, tears gathering in her eyes for another reason as she carefully abandoned to cup on the table and took long strides towards him. She stopped before she was close enough to try and touch him, knowing it would only bring her heartache, and ignored the tears slipping down her cheeks. 

It was unbecoming of a pureblood, of a Malfoy, of a _Black_ , but she had lost so much dear to her. Bella was imprisoned, Andy wasn't returning her letters, and she felt so alone in the manor even with Draco's education and Lucius' pampering to serve as distractions. Not to mention Regulus had been ripped from them far too soon, and it had wounded her so when he was pronounced missing in action. She loved her little cousin, made every excuse in the book to spare his soft heart, and cursed Sirius for leaving the boy alone with her aunt. The chance to see him again, even if it was a haunt, even if it was a shade, she had to know.

( ~~ _Know who did it, make their lives hell, because she's lost so much let her get vengeance for this one thing-)_~~

"Regulus." She gasped out, the word ripping itself from her chest.

He seemed surprised, blinking at her with those impossibly grey eyes. He was...fashioned in muggle clothing, which was unusual, but the Black family ring set heavily upon his finger even in death. She forced her tears to dry, took a shaking step forward, reached a hand out, and was met with...cold but solid flesh. She gasped sharply, staggering back and looking at him with wide eyes.

"I've missed you, Cissy. I'm sorry I took so long to visit." He smiled sadly, his face drawn in grief.

"Regulus." She gasped out, "How-? No ghost can...I can touch you. How?"

"Harry Potter." He shrugged, ignoring her incredulous stare, "He can see the dead, he's a medium. This just...happened, I suppose, this past Halloween."

"Harry Potter..." She muttered in wonder, staggering over to the couch to sit.

He watched her closely, even as she stared at him with uncomprehending eyes.

"We need to talk, Narcissa." He said gravely, crouching down before her.

"Yes, we do." She reached her hand forward, grabbing his own and gripping it tightly, ignoring the chills that rushed up her spine, making the hair on her neck stand at attention, "Which one of them did it? The Order of the Phoenix, which one them dared to-to-"

She broke off, unable to say the words before continuing fiercely, Black grey eyes nearly glowing with anger in the low light of the room, "I'll ruin them, I swear it. They won't escape, Regulus, I promise you."

"It wasn't the Order." He said, rather numbly, looking past her instead of into her eyes.

"What?" She blinked, "Then who?"

"It was essentially suicide, I assure you." He gave her a dry smile, but his attempt at humor gave her no comfort.

"What happened, Regulus?" She pressed, "What do you mean, suicide?"

"The Dark Lord." His face spasmed for a moment, a complicated emotion filling his eyes, "He stole Kreacher away for an evening. When he returned him, something awful had happened, and I discovered his secret."

She blinked, once, and chills of a different kind overtook her, "What secret? You're being needlessly cryptic, and it wears on my nerves."

"He made a Horcrux." He said, and she was floored, "He was immortal."

She knew of Horcruxes, of course. Extremely dark magic, darker than the Malfoys would ever tamper with and perhaps even too dark for her own kin. The Dark Lord having one, being immortal...

"That's a good thing, right?" She said, pursing her lips, "Right?"

Regulus pulled his hand from hers and stood, staring down at her with proud eyes and a set jaw. He looked...like Sirius. He looked like Sirius. She stood as well, staring him down carefully.

"Right, Regulus?" She said, desperate to be proven wrong, desperate for him to confirm he hadn't betrayed them, betrayed her, "Regulus."

"It's an abomination and I couldn't let it continue." He said quietly, the words soaring through the air like knives, "I stole the Horcrux and I died. I drowned, but what was left of my body probably got torn apart by the inferi at the bottom of the lake."

She felt ill and shook her head, "Why would you do that? You joined his cause-"

"Not out of any loyalty, we both know that." His face darkened at the thought of his mother holding his arm out and still, the tears that had run down his face at the pain, but also the desperation to please her to avoid the curses, "Besides, you never did get the Mark, Narcissa."

"I didn't need to." She said stiffly, "Lucius had gotten his, and so had Bellatrix, and I wasn't involved beyond the finances-"

"You stayed only out of loyalty to your family, _not_ to Voldemort." He said fiercely, "You let them do heinous things and took solace in your own innocence. Is it truly innocence, though, when you watch a disgrace happen and do nothing to stop it?"

"Oh, like you did?" She said tersely, "And get me and my husband killed for my insolence?"

He seemed so ready to argue, words on the tip of his tongue, so unlike the boy she had once known. Then he swallowed them down like a bitter pill, like acid, and her cousin had returned.

"I didn't come here to argue. I came here for a reason." He said, pacing slightly, "Sirius is in Azkaban, and you can get him out."

"No." She denied immediately, "Not only do I have no desire to, but Lucius would never agree-"

"He would if you were saving the Boy Who Lived." Regulus's eyes were cold and calculated in a way she'd never seen, "Harry is abused by his muggle aunt and uncle. You know Pettigrew killed those muggles, was responsible for the Potters, and you know where the rat is hiding too, don't you?"

She blinked, "I do. I was there the night he fled from Sirius, missing a finger. My question is, how do _you_ know any of this."

"I've spoken with Sirius, and I'm also not an idiot." He rolled his eyes, "Free Sirius from Azkaban by proving his innocence and say you were moved to act out of fear for the poor, young child known as Harry Potter. Say you know the truth, submit your memories, I don't care. Either way, it boosts your standing, seeing as I'm sure your reputation took a dent after the Dark Lord's fall, and your family were named Death Eaters. Let me guess, Lucius only barely escaped Azkaban?"

She wrung her hands, shaking her head, "I don't know, Regulus, this doesn't seem like a particularly rewarding plan for myself."

His eyes were sad, and she expected him to beg, almost wanted that from him after everything, but instead, he took her by surprise once more, "Tell me, was it rewarding when Marlene was murdered along with her entire family?"

She reared back like she'd been punched and stared at him in betrayal before the cool Pureblood mask schooled her features into indifference.

"You did nothing when she died. I was the only one who'd known about your crush, and then relationship. She hated you so much when you broke things off your seventh year for your engagement with Lucius." He said, pursing his lips, "You loved her because she was brave, you said. She was loyal and beautiful and then she was dead. Was that rewarding? Was your own sister being locked up and driven to further lunacy rewarding, Narcissa? Your other sister abandoning you for choosing the dark? Was any of that _rewarding_?"

She couldn't speak. Her mouth moved silently, but no words came out.

"How rewarding," He spat the words out, "Do you think it was for me to see Sirius wasting away in Azkaban?"

"He left you there. I saw the marks and bruises after." She said hoarsely.

Regulus glanced away before he met her eyes, a cold fire burning, "He's my brother."

Narcissa understood. Even with Bellatrix's madness, even with Andromeda's cold shoulder, she would still come running if her sisters called. She was loyal to a fault; the Sorting Hat had even recommended Hufflepuff. She saw that same faith in Regulus's eyes and she already knew he would move worlds for his brother. 

"You want me to do the impossible." She said quietly, resigned.

"You only need to convince your husband. Death Eater or not, he still holds much power I assume." His face was resigned like he'd hated what he'd had to say to her, but she understood.

Even if Narcissa was loyal enough to be a Hufflepuff, even if Regulus was smart enough to be a Ravenclaw, in reality, they were both Slytherins. He'd done what he had to, and she respected it. He'd never had that backbone before.

She turned away, "If Lucius agrees it to be a mutually beneficial arrangement, I'll see what strings I can pull."

"Thank you."

"I'm assuming you want to be unmentioned?" She said, raising a brow.

"For now, yes." He confirmed, "Dumbledore-"

"Is Dumbledore." She sighed, nodding, "I'll see what I can do."

Things were silent before, "Cissy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

She knew he loved her, even if his words hurt her in ways she couldn't even express.

 _( ~~Images of Marlene's body, which once fit on top of her own like a perfect puzzle piece, regaled like a work of art, laying cold and dead and dead and **dead-**~~_ )

He just loved his brother more than any of them imagined.

* * *

Regulus left feeling hollow. He'd seen the pain on Narcissa's face and hated to be the one that caused it. Guilt crawled up his spine, making him feel filthy in regret, but he had to put Sirius above his own comfort. For Harry, hells for Lupin, even for himself. His brother had to be free.

He just hoped Narcissa kept her word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made myself sad there at the end, don't mind me. Basically, though, canon for this fic is that Marlene was a friend of the Mauraders but older much like Narcissa, and was probably around her seventh year when Sirius & crew joined Hogwarts. Bellatrix and Andromeda had already graduated, obviously. (Narcissa was born in 1951, Sirius in 1959). Regulus found out because, despite being significantly younger, he and Narcissa are both soft-hearted for purebloods and she confessed to him when the news of the McKinnons deaths broke. 
> 
> He's the only one who knows they were together, and that Narcissa broke Marlene's heart for agreeing to marry Lucius, and Narcissa carried that heartbreak with her even after Marlene moved on with Dorcas Meadowes and then eventually died. Yes, yes, I'm probably twisting canon for my own needs, but not much is known about them so I shall take *creative liberties*.
> 
> Also, Remus and Harry and Regulus are low key gonna live together I'm soft :)))
> 
> And yeah,,,Sirius and Reg meet again next chapter. Remus writes Sirius a letter. It's...sad tbh. Get ready for that one!


	6. Losing Balance

Chapter Six: Losing Balance

* * *

_So pardon the dust_   
_While this all settles in_   
_With a broken heart_   
_Transformation begins_

* * *

He doesn't go to Lupin's apartment immediately after leaving the Malfoy manor. He's off-kilter, a bit sick with regret, and really he just wants to see his brother. Perhaps to remind himself his efforts are worth it, that his brother is still safe, that all will be well in the future. Harry will have a godfather and Regulus will have a family once more, a better one now that his mother is dead and gone. Even now he feels some level of guilt thinking that while remembering the quiet tears she'd shed alone in her room after his father had passed, remembering how happy she'd been when she thought Regulus's footsteps were Orion's. Then he also remembers the hexes and curses, insults and bruises, Sirius running away without a word, even their father being fearfully silent in the face of her wrath, coming back from Christmas break and charming over his black eye since his mother refused to give him bruise gel and he was too proud to go see Madam Pomfrey. 

It's best she's no longer with them.

He wanders down the long, dark hallways filled with cells, invisible to the human eye as long as he wishes to be. He glances in on Bellatrix, the woman in the middle of ranting and raving, and walks right past. She would kill him if she knew what he'd said to Narcissa earlier, among other reasons, too. The chatter about him makes him walk a bit faster to the far end of the hallway and hung a left into a quieter part of the prison, perhaps where the less manic wards were placed to keep the populations separated. Upon further investigation, though, Sirius' cell had no neighbors for several rows down, unlike the rest of the prison being stuffed full of heinous villains.

His heart sunk. Was this an attempt by someone to give him some peace of mind or an attempt to keep him isolated and vulnerable? Regulus wasn't sure.

Either way, he phased through the bars and became corporeal, seeing his brother's ears perk up when he heard footsteps on the cold concrete. Sirius's head snaps up immediately after, stumbling to stand as the speed and how weak Azkaban had made him ripped his usual grace from him. Regulus sighs, accepting what he thinks will be a hug with the air of a put-upon sibling, but instead, Sirius grabs him by the neck and pulls him in for a noogie that surely messes up his hair. Regulus squawks as Sirius raps his head with his knuckles, and phases out of corporeality long enough to escape. 

Sirius clicks his tongue slightly, "That's cheating, Reggie, and you know it."

"Here I came to give you some halfway decent news and this is the thanks I get." Regulus gave him an annoyed look, "Perhaps I'll just leave."

"You wouldn't." Sirius snorts, going to lean against the wall once more and slide down it until he sat on the ground again. Regulus sighed and followed suit, sitting in front of his brother with a sour expression.

"Bloody hate it when you're right." He mutters, ignoring the laugh he receives, "Anyways, do you want the news or not? And do you want good or the very good first?"

"Shocked there's no bad with you involved." Sirius rolled his eyes, "Hit me with the good news, I suppose."

"I've spoken with Narcissa about securing your release."

With just those words, Sirius sets up straighter. All at once, his young face is growing tense with hesitation and hope at the same time, eyes wide, "She'd never."

"With the right incentive." Regulus shrugged, leaving the details vague so as to not betray her confidence any more than he already had, "She's speaking it over with her husband. I assume we'll know something soon."

"How could she even get me out?" He sat forward, resting his chin on his palm, "I know her and Lucius are rich, but that'll only get them so far."

"She'll come up with something. I assume it'll involve giving up Pettigrew to the authorities, seeing as she knows his current location." His face darkens, "It'd be good for you two to switch places."

Sirius's expression grew stormy as well, "She knows where he is?"

"Yes." He sighed, sending his brother a tired look, "I know you're itching for revenge, but you're locked in a cell. Try and reign in the Gryffindor impulses just a touch longer."

His brother let out a sharp breath, leaning his head back against the stone wall with a dull thud. Regulus watched with a frown, before resigning himself to his brother's dramatics, "Also, since you haven't asked yet, the very good news. I suppose it does come with a bit of a dark tale beforehand, though."

"Don't be cryptic, Regulus, you always do that when you want to avoid a conversation." Sirius groaned, "Out with it, already."

"When James and Lily passed, Harry was given to his only living relatives." Regulus studied Sirius' face for any recognition, "Petunia-"

"Petunia Evans got custody of Harry?" Sirius interrupted him loudly, shooting him an incredulous look, "She could never raise a magical child! She bullied Lily any chance she got!"

"Petunia Dursley now, actually, and her great doofus of a husband is just as bad. They have a son, as well, named Dudley." Regulus pursed his lips, remembering the first night he became corporeal, "From what I could tell when I first manifested, they abused Harry. Emotionally and, at times, physically."

His brother was silent. Regulus pushed on, heart growing heavy.

"He was afraid of them. I did all I could while incorporeal, but once I made myself known they left him alone out of fear."

Sirius remained quiet, a devastated expression falling over his face and erasing any earlier incredulity or good humor.

"Siri, say something," Regulus whispered, "I know it's hard to hear-"

"Hard to hear?" Sirius snapped, glowering at Regulus, "You have no _idea_ what- I- James and Lily trusted _me_ to protect Harry. Remus and I both! Where was he? Where was Remus?"

"Dumbledore...deemed him unfit." Regulus averted his eyes as his brother's temper flared even higher.

" _Unfit_? He'd be better than _child abusers_!" Sirius shouted, his voice hoarse, "He's been with them eight years. Eight bloody years and I- I couldn't do anything."

Sirius's breath was coming out in harsh huffs, and Regulus could see tears gathering in his eyes. He wanted to make it better, say something to soothe the pain, but he knew nothing on Earth could do that. Sirius felt responsible for whatever pain Harry had gone through, as preposterous as it was seeing as he was locked up at the time on false charges and unable to do anything. Still, it hurt Regulus to see his brother torturing himself over it.

"I know you blame yourself, Siri." He started hesitantly, "You couldn't have done anything, though, I know-"

"You keep saying you _know_. You know absolutely nothing, Regulus," Sirius said, his voice bitter, as he ran a hand over his face.

Regulus winced, not wanting to incite another argument, "As I said, I know it's hard for you to hear, and I can't imagine what it feels-"

"Can't imagine what it feels like to be locked up for years?" Sirius snapped snidely, "Hearing your godson was abused in your absence, your best friend dead, and your other best friend cast out by someone supposed to protect us? You're right, Regulus, you can't imagine."

"You're being unfair." He said firmly, "You're angry and I hate to be the one to tell you all of this."

"I'm being unfair?" Sirius scowled at him, "Look where I am, Regulus! I'm in Azkaban-!"

"And I'm dead." Regulus interrupted his brother for once, watching Sirius's face fall momentarily at the words, "You're in Azkaban, and I'm dead. Let's not pretend I sacrificed nothing."

He knew how Sirius was when he was angry; his brother had a short fuse and a razor-sharp tongue, so getting in his way when he was mad was a sure-fire shot at getting your feelings hurt. He'd learned this many times over as a child, and even more when they were at Hogwarts after Sirius had run away. His brother had barely even spoken to him, but when he had it always ended with Regulus crying in an abandoned classroom until it was safe to come out again. Sirius hated their mother so much; hated her politics, hated her abuse, hated her hatred. They shared one thing, though, and that was their temper, not that he'd dare ever say that to his brother's face.

"I'm sorry, Reg." His brother said heavily, and he meant it, "I didn't mean that."

He nodded his acceptance, "And like I said, though it's a dark beginning, some good has happened."

His brother made a noise of disbelief.

"Remus was working at the bookstore I took Harry to on Yule's Eve." Regulus began explaining, only to stop when he saw his brother's brows lift, "What?"

"You took Harry to a bookstore?" Sirius said, laughing slightly, "I just never thought you'd be good with kids, I suppose. Especially, you know, the _troubled_ ones."

Regulus grimaced, "I know you loathe to admit I've had any hardships in life, what with being the golden child, but I do know what it's like to be raised in a hostile and abusive environment, Sirius. Any gesture of goodwill means the world."

Sirius was quiet for a moment, studying his brother carefully, "There's...a lot of resentment in you, isn't there, Reg?"

"No clue what you mean." He deflected unconvincingly, yet was still convinced the charge on through the conversation, "Anyways, Remus was there. We exchanged words over everything that happened-"

"Words?" Sirius raised his brows, suddenly interested.

"I belittled his intelligence and morals." Regulus said, voice dry, "Is that what you want to hear?"

"Because of me?" Sirius faux batted his eyelashes, making Regulus scoff.

"Your ego is enormous, are you aware of that?" The younger Black rolled his eyes, "Yes, it was over your arrest and Harry both. Anyways, he ended up on Petunia's doorstep, soaking wet might I add, and the encounter ended with Harry being whisked away to Remus's apartment."

Sirius seemed to sag in relief, "That's...that is good."

It was silent for a moment, Regulus staring through the small cell window above them and out into the night sky. He supposed it was nearly five in the morning at this point, really, but instead he took solace in the relative quiet of the moment. The other wards of Azkaban were unusually silent. Perhaps asleep, he thought, naively. 

"Regulus." His brother spoke suddenly, "I know I don't really have the right to ask you for anything else-"

"Of course you do. You're my brother." 

Sirius blinked, looking at him hard and long before shaking his head, "I really don't. I will ask this, though, despite that; please stay with Harry, even though he's with Remus now."

"I was already going to." Regulus shrugged, "He'd probably figure out a way to summon me back even if I left. We're making great progress with the spectral plane, you know."

"That's...well, that's good." Sirius blinked, looking overwhelmed for a moment, "I suppose I'd considered the trauma from abuse, not the trauma from seeing _ghosts_."

Regulus only winced. The ghosts even wizards couldn't see were usually the ones who had business left on Earth and hadn't moved on. Some of them were exceptionally bloody and gruesome, and some just sad. Most weren't powerful enough to become haunts, so they wandered around until Harry's energy drew them in like moths to a flame.

"Your silence is telling." Sirius looked weary, "That combination of psychological damage is frightening."

"Yes, it is, and he'll need support." Regulus pursed his lips, everything he didn't say weighing the air down between them.

Sirius noticed, "Reg, I'm sorry-"

"I don't want to have this discussion in Azkaban of all places." Regulus tried to plead without actually begging, "It can wait."

Sirius looked at his brother, eternally eighteen and torn from the world too soon, and nodded. If Regulus wanted to wait, he could appease his brother for once in his life, or afterlife.

"If you say so-"

The air grew significantly colder. Sirius noticed it immediately, freezing stock still and pushing himself back into the corner. The air grew oppressive and it was then that Regulus knew the dementors were making their rounds. Even the light from the stars outside seemed to be sucked into a black hole of darkness. He stood, standing in front of his brother and looking down at him.

"Did you figure out the wandless Patronus?" He asked urgently, receiving no response, "Sirius?"

His brother only shook his head, muttering under his breath. Regulus knew his years in Azkaban had scarred him; the muggles called it post-traumatic stress disorder, he believed, except Sirius's nightmare wasn't over quite yet. As the creatures rounded the corner, he noted that they were the ugliest things Regulus had ever laid his eyes on, and still his very form trembled in front of them. They couldn't kill him, that much was true, but he was still a being with energy and memories, most importantly. They sucked every good one out, brought to mind every devastating experience, and gave him a sense of hopelessness that would have brought him to his knees if he still had an actual body. Their hands were scabbed and rotting as the cell door opened magically, their forms cloaked in long, ratty cloaks and they glided towards the brothers. Their breaths rattled in the dead silence of the air, only disrupted by Sirius's frantic whispering.

Regulus tried to keep his chin high as they approached, but-

_-_

_He woke up to blinding pain, every nerve of his body on fire, and as his eyes shot open he could blearily make out his mother standing at the end of his bed._

_"Where has he gone?" She screeched, her voice hoarse from all the yelling the night before, "Where is he?"_

_Regulus tried to find words, but couldn't even open his mouth from how tightly his teeth were ground together._

_"Useless boy!" She snarled, releasing him from the Cruciatus Curse, his body falling slump against the bedsheets._

_"Convorto!" She let another curse pass her lips, the harsh red light enveloping him in pain once more._

_-_

_"Sirius!" He tried to grab his brother by the arm, worried when he'd seen the tear tracks running down his brother's face, "Siri, wait-!"_

_His brother jerked his arm from Regulus's grasp, the sneer startling, "Just go run back downstairs and be mommy's little golden boy, why don't you? Never saying a word, just sitting still and accepting all the shit she says!"_

_He could feel his face drop, but it elicited no sympathy from his brother. He heard a door slam shut, and he never saw Sirius in the house again._

_-_

_His mother's grip was tight, her fingernails digging crescent moons into the flesh of his forearm, and he tried to hold back his tears because he was surrounded. Not only was Bellatrix and Narcissa at his side, but so were his mother and father and his aunts and uncles. The rest of the Death Eaters were scattered around the clearing, he even spotted Snape in the back, and in front of him was Lord Voldemort himself._

_"I bestow the honor of my mark upon you, young Heir Black." The voice was silky and evil still wore a handsome face then, the Dark Lord not turning his eyes red and his skin dull by cutting up his soul yet._

_The pain was bright hot and excruciating. He felt like his arm would melt off, almost like it was a Crucio all centered at one point of his body. He didn't scream or close his eyes, though. He stared unflinchingly ahead, aware of all the eyes on him and aware of his mother's sharp gaze even more than the Dark Lord's._

_"Welcome, Regulus." Voldemort said when it was done._

_Regulus hurt, and he was tired, and he felt like throwing up and screaming until his throat was raw. He did none of that and instead let his mother guide him home._

_-_

_He was weak, and a coward._

_He stood on the roof of Grimmauld Place, the cold night air surrounding him, and not for the first time considering stepping off it. It would be so easy, and it didn't really have any consequences. His father was dead, not that Orion truly cared for him beyond his newfound status of Heir. His mother was locked in her rooms, so deep in her grieving she wouldn't know and likely wouldn't care besides perhaps lamenting that she'd raised a spineless whelp. His brother...Sirius was on the right side of the war. He was fine, and he was happy, and he certainly didn't give a shit about Regulus. Kreacher wasn't even here now, the Dark Lord had borrowed him for a task and he'd let his friend go at his mother's behest. He didn't want the house-elf to be the one to find his body; he knew it would break Kreacher's heart._

_He dangled one foot over the edge, toying with the idea of letting his weight carry him all the way down into sweet freedom._

_He heard the crack of apparating and knew Kreacher had returned._

_He turned around and entered the house once more through his bedroom window._

_-_

_His last moments were a blur; there was a blast of fire as hands rose from the lake, black smoke encircling him as sharp fingers grabbed him by the ankles. The inferi were quickly gaining on him, crawling out from the murky depths of the lake. The smoke entered his nostrils and mouth, putrid and impossible to escape, and it tasted of ash and smelled like death. As they pulled him under, he sucked in lungfuls of water as he screamed for help. He called his brother's name, he called Kreacher's, he screamed until the water silenced him once and for all, and darkness stole his vision at last._

_-_

He was shaking when he came to, someone shaking his shoulder from where he was curled on the ground.

"R-Reg?" He heard Sirius' voice shaking, "Are you alright?"

He was shaking, he felt like his soul had been ripped to shreds and sewn back together, and he was most certainly alright. Sirius had apparently dragged him to the corner he'd sat in, fear flashing in his eyes as the Dementor grew closer, and Regulus realized his life flashing before his eyes had happened in a matter of seconds. From an outsider's perspective it would almost be funny; his brother dragging the corporeal form of a spirit to safety. Still, he could find little humor at the moment.

He didn't respond, he couldn't even if he wanted to, but he saw his brother's pale face and knew what he'd see; James and Lily both dead, likely his years of torture in Azkaban, the years of abuse suffered at the hands of their mother. He pushed himself up to his feet, jaw clenched even as he felt himself slipping from the mortal plane. It was cold, so cold, but his brother had suffered enough. He'd protected Regulus as long as he could, fought on the right side of the war only to lose everything, had been sentenced to an eternity hell-bent on taking his sanity.

"Regulus!" His brother shouted, "Be careful, we don't even know what they'll do to ghosts-!"

His hands shook, but he had to be brave. For once in his life, he _wanted_ to be brave. He thought of the Patronus spell, but he had no wand, no way of casting, but magic was just energy. It was energy in its purest form, and wizards were able to wield it. What was Regulus now if not pure energy?

"A Patronus." He whispered, thinking desperately for a good memory as the Dementors closed in with their breath-taking chill, " _Expecto Patronum_."

He could hear Sirius whimper from behind him, likely expecting what was to come, and Regulus screwed his eyes shut. His mind raced, from the day he was placed in Slytherin to the day he died. All of his memories were tainted now; every one of his mother and father had the shadow of death and abuse, Narcissa had been taken over by her propaganda, he couldn't think of his brother without pain, it felt like every single memory from his life had been tarnished. Except...he could remember Harry's face lighting up when they entered Ollivanders, his excitement at the bookstore, the smugness whenever Regulus had threatened to shave his Uncle Vernon's mustache off in his sleep if the man didn't keep his trap shut. That kid was the only thing Regulus had managed to not mess up in his entire life and death; Harry was like a brother to him, someone he wanted to protect with a ferocity he'd only ever felt a couple of times before. 

Like now. He supposed he felt that same ferocity now.

" _Expecto Patronum_." He snarled into the dead silence, and he saw the bright silver light swirling around his fingers. From the light sprouted a fully-formed fox, the creature leaping on air towards the Dementors, who turned away with a horrible hiss. They backed away from the cell, the door swinging shut with an echoing clang, and Regulus was quick to collapse on the ground as if his knees were made of jelly. 

When he looked at Sirius, his brother was watching him with wide, stunned eyes. Regulus supposed it was probably a feat he should be proud of; he'd never heard of a ghost figuring out how to do magic before. Then again, thus far he'd been a very atypical ghost.

"Of bloody course, it was a fox." Was the first thing Sirius said when his teeth stopped chattering, "Also, what the actual hell?"

Regulus just made a vague hand gesture.

"Since when could you do wandless magic?' Sirius pressed on, confusion and excitement overtaking the lingering fear of the Dementors clinging to the room, "Since when could ghosts do magic _at all_?"

"I don't know." Regulus said, shaking his head and staring down at his palms, "I really don't. The only thing I _do_ know is that Harry is going to be thrilled."

* * *

Remus was asleep on the count when he finally followed the pull that led him to Harry. The boy was like a beaming light, attracting any ghost with enough wits to sense it, so he'd always be able to find the brat. He simply walked through the door, remaining unseen as he looked around. There were a couple of plants sitting on the kitchen counters, half wilted, and two empty bottles of butterbeer sat on the table, along with a few chocolate frog wrappers. The werewolf had probably bribed Harry with sweets to get him to go to bed. Other than that the place was spick and span, void of life, and obviously a rental. Plain beige walls, dark hardwood floors; the place was a picture-perfect example of neutrality. 

Sighing, he made himself visible and flicked on the light, startling Remus awake.

"You're back." Lupin muttered, rubbing his eyes, "Harry was worried."

"Have you gotten any sleep at all?" Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Beyond your nap, that is?"

"Not particularly, no." Remus said, sheepishly, "I was anxious, I guess, I wanted-"

"To hear about Sirius?" He interrupted, not unkindly, "I just got back from talking with him."

"What did he say?" The question was hesitant as if the older man feared the answer.

"In general? Azkaban is Hell and he's still horrible at taking other's feelings into account." Regulus said drolly, taking a seat in a chair that was opposite Remus' couch, "About you in particular? Furious that Dumbledore treated you the way he did, and very happy Harry is with you now."

Remus was quiet for a moment, regret swimming in his eyes, and the subject change was abrupt but expected. 

"Surely he'll-" Remus bit his lip, "Surely his aunt and uncle will notice, right? He was kidding earlier?"

"When they notice he and his things are gone, they'll throw a party." Regulus smiled slightly, "If only to get the ghost rooted from their home."

Remus gave him a wary look, "Are you alright? You look, well, I didn't think ghosts could look tired, but you do."

"I'm fine, my brother just has a talent for picking at old wounds." Regulus gave him a wry smile, "Nothing to worry about."

"You seem like you're flickering." The werewolf continued delicately, as if not wanting to alarm him, "You've been fairly good at staying corporal before, and-"

"Well, I cast a Patronus charm." Regulus said, just a touch flippant, "Dementors are a pain."

Remus gave him a silent, wide-eyed stare.

"Before you ask, no, I don't know how. By all intents and purposes, I'm dead; I have no body or wand. I just figured at the time that energy is energy, and it worked."

The other man's eyebrows rose, "Do you realize how dangerous that could be? You're a ghost, you have very limited energy anyways, what if it turns out to be finite?"

"As in, I disappear if I use it up?" Regulus glanced away, "I had not...considered that."

"For however smart you are, you're reckless." Remus pinched the bridge of his nose.

A sound like a scoff escaped him, "I _know_ the Gryffindor who allowed his friends to become illegal animagi is not accusing me of being reckless?"

Remus just gave a weary sigh as he stood, looking like he was bone-tired, which was probably true, "Just be careful, okay? Harry would be heartbroken if you were gone, and other people care about you too."

_( ~~Who?~~ )_

The thought came unbidden, and he knew what his brother would say if he caught him thinking like that, so he just nodded. Remus gave him a look like he saw past the facade, past the bullshit, and it chilled Regulus to his core. The werewolf was too attuned to people, that much was certain.

"Goodnight, Regulus." Was all he said, softly, before he quietly walked down the hallway to his room. 

By the morning, when Harry flew into the room and tackled him into a hug, he felt steadier. 

He felt whole.

Like the magic that had flickered at his fingertips earlier wouldn't be his demise, perhaps it would be something else altogether. Maybe it wasn't finite at all, though the concern was still alarming, maybe the energy was all around him in this in-between place he haunted, and maybe he could make use of it. Maybe it was infinite. 

Regulus was, for the first time since his death, truly eager to find something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an aesthetic I made for Reg in this story if you're interested:
> 
> I'll probably make one for Sirius, Remus, Harry, etc. etc. too because I love doing mood boards on my phone when I'm bored at work lol.
> 
> Regulus has a lot of Ravenclaw tendencies, guys, he is so ready to jump on this ghostly magic mystery. His Slytherin is showing too, ready to hex Dumbledore himself while being invisible lmao. Meanwhile, Remus is just begging him to not die again.
> 
> ALSO!! Sorry, Remus's letter is the next chapter, I got carried away with a lot of plot-specific stuff that needed to happen. Also, Sirius and Regulus make me happy and sad at the same time. 
> 
> Regulus is using magic! This could be very good or very fatal. Sirius's first thought was excitement and Remus's was of concern. That's very On Brand for them. Guess we'll have to find out! Also, did any of you lovely readers catch anything hidden in this chapter? Maybe Regulus's memories during the dementor scene? A warning, everything I write is foreshadowing lol. 
> 
> Tell me what you thought, your favorite line or scene, just whatever! I love to read comments a bunch!


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